


Just A Blink In Life

by HollyLyn1217



Series: Between You And Me [2]
Category: Kane (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:17:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HollyLyn1217/pseuds/HollyLyn1217
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things aren’t what they seem.  When tempers fly in the aftermath can the damage be undone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just A Blink In Life

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone ... damn it! It's all fictional and just for fun!
> 
> Author’s Notes: [1] I have been told that this needs a Kleenex warning (or several).
> 
> [3] The next sequel is written and posted and there will be more to come in this universe. I say this now since the two people who were kind enough to give this the once over were ready to hunt me down when they got to “The End”. And having said that, I need to thank buttercup22 and suzieconfused for giving this beast a once over and letting me know what they thought! You guys are the best!
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

**Just A Blink In Life**

**Holly Lyn**

** &&&&&&& **

                “God damn it, Steve,” Christian panted breathlessly.  “Are you gonna move before I die of waitin’?”  Tightening his thighs around the trim waist of the man who was currently driving him insane with need, Christian wriggled and tried to maneuver himself into the position he knew would bring him the brain melting fireworks he craved.

                Steve clamped his hands around Christian’s torso and kept him from moving as he circled his own hips, allowing the head of his penis to brush tantalizingly over his lover’s prostate.  “Hey, Chris,” he growled and ceased all movement, “you got any shirtless scenes coming up any time soon?”

                Christian drew in as deep a breath as he could given the half-folded position he was in, “What the hell?” he gasped in disbelief.  “Really?… You’re asking me that now?  Stop talkin’ and do somethin’!”

                Swiveling his hips again, Steve chuckled at the tortured groan he drew from Christian.  “You are such a pushy bottom.”  Leaning forward, Steve licked a teasing stripe between Christian’s nipples forcing a whine from the other man’s throat.  “Now answer the question … You need to be shirtless?”

                “No!” Christian snarled.  “What the fu – “ his question turned into a yelp as Steve leaned down, sank his teeth into Christian’s left pectoral muscle and sucked, raising a large purple bruise next to the nipple and over his heart.

                “Mine!” Steve rasped and gave another powerful thrust.

                “Oh fuck yeah!” Christian yelled, digging his fingers into Steve’s forearms so hard he knew he’d be leaving bruises of his own.  “Now move!” he commanded.

                Steve used the grip he had on Christian’s waist to reposition him on the supportive pillow under his lower back before he began driving into Christian with a steady, relentless rhythm.  Christian met him thrust for thrust and Steve leaned down to fuse their mouths together, silencing Christian’s grunts and growls with his tongue.  The new position trapped Christian’s cock between their sweat slick bellies and Steve rolled his abs using them to massage the pulsing shaft against his lover’s own stomach.

                As Christian writhed and shivered under the new onslaught, Steve broke the kiss and shook perspiration out of his hair and eyes wanting to see the moment the other man tumbled over the brink.  He knew it wouldn’t be long now; both of them were so close that he figured one more push would do it.  Steve withdrew slowly and moved Christian’s hips one more time before he gave a final, powerful thrust deep into the warm and welcoming depths of his lover’s body.

                Christian went rigid.  His eyes rolled back in his head and he let out a howl; his entire body convulsed over and over as his seed coated their bellies.  The sight, sound, and scent triggered Steve’s own orgasm.  With a shout, Steve let go a throaty growl of his own.  His vision darkened at the edges and he had to fight to keep from squashing Christian as his limbs trembled in the aftermath of his release.

                Christian recovered just in time to see Steve nearly lose his grip on consciousness and he used what strength he had left to roll them both so that he was on top with Steve’s softening shaft still held snugly inside his own body.  “Steve,” he called huskily and leaned forward to kiss Steve slowly, deeply.  “C’mon, man, don’t pass out on me,” he chuckled.  “Should I be flattered?”

                Steve’s eyes fluttered open and a big, blissed out smile spread across his face.  “Wow!” he said a bit breathlessly.

                “You back with me?” Christian asked and shifted his weight a little.  His internal muscles tightened involuntarily and Steve’s eyes glazed over as his sensitive penis was massaged in a very good way.  His hips bucked up giving Christian’s prostate a gentle nudge which drew a low groan from Christian’s lips.  “Um … maybe I’d better …” Christian motioned with his hands to where their bodies were still joined indicating separation.

                Steve swallowed noisily and drew in a deep breath through his nose as he nodded and rubbed his palms up and down the strong, corded muscles in Christian’s thighs.  “Might be a good idea,” he grinned.

                Shifting just enough to bring his left leg up and over Steve’s torso, Christian melted to the mattress next to Steve with a soft sound of loss as Steve’s shaft finally slipped free of his body.  A grin quirked the corner of his mouth as Steve scooted after him and placed his head in the center of Christian’s chest, stretching out like a large, tawny mountain cat.

                “Best music in the world,” Steve sighed as he listened to Christian’s heartbeat for a moment.  He leaned up to place a kiss on the newly raised love bite and frowned when Christian gave a tiny wince at the brief contact.  “Sorry, babe,” he apologized.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

                Christian tangled his fingers in Steve’s sweaty blond mane.  “Not that I’m complaining,” he said softly, “but what got into you tonight?” he shifted a little and felt a pleasant ache and burn that would remind him of this encounter for a few days.

                “Oh god!” Steve sat up abruptly.  “Are you okay?  Did I hurt you?”

                “Shhh!” Christian responded and tried to pull Steve back to him.  “I’m fine, darlin’.  Settle down with me.  You’ve got a really early morning and a long flight ahead of you.”

                “Just … give me a sec …” Gone was the sleepy, sated lion of a few moments ago as Steve bounced out of bed and headed for the bathroom removing the used condom along the way.

                Christian admired the play of lean muscles under tanned skin as Steve disposed of the condom and grabbed a washcloth to do a quick clean up.  “How’d I get so lucky?” he asked softly as Steve made his way back to the bed with another wet washcloth in hand.

                “What was that?” Steve smiled as he ran the cloth over Christian’s sweaty face and chest before cleaning Christian’s seed off of his lower body and gently checked between his buttocks for the slightest trace of blood.

                “Knock it off,” Christian mock grumbled and squirmed away from the searching digits.  He grabbed the cloth out of Steve’s hand and flung it towards the bathroom doing a little internal celebration when he heard it hit the tile floor rather than landing on the carpet.  “Now c’mere,” he rasped and pulled Steve up to position him so he could lay his head over Steve’s heart.  The other man’s arms automatically draped around him and he sighed in contentment and relaxed completely.  “And I said, how’d I get so lucky?” his drawl thickened as he started the slow slide into sleep.

                “Lucky?” Steve murmured and ran his fingers through the long brown hair draped over his chest.

                Christian smiled as Steve’s voice rumbled under his ear.  “Yeah.  You … Me … Us … This …” he let the fingers of his left hand trace aimlessly through the sparse hair between Steve’s pecs.

                Steve laughed.  “The way I figure it, no one else would put up with either one of us so it’s a good thing we found each other.”

                “Dork,” Christian snorted.

                “Your dork.”

                “Love my dork,” Christian laid a light kiss over Steve’s heart and his breathing began to even out.

                “Love you, too,” Steve whispered and brought Christian’s fingers up to kiss them before laying them back on his chest and covering them with his own hand as he reached for the blankets and draped them over their cooling bodies.

                He was glad Christian had been able to fall asleep so easily.  He wasn’t the only one who had an early morning and he’d been hoping that he would be able to keep his growing anxiety over the next couple of weeks to himself.  Christian had to be back on the _Leverage_ set first thing while Steve jetted off to the United Kingdom and Europe for a couple of business meetings, a convention appearance, and some solo gigs.  Normally travel like that didn’t phase him but this was the first time he and Christian were going to be apart for this length of time and that much distance since the start of their new relationship barely six months ago.  What was really making him antsy, though, was that the last time he had misgivings this strong, Christian had wound up with temporary amnesia and he’d almost lost the best thing in his life before it ever began.

                Sighing heavily, Steve started running his fingers through Christian’s hair.  He hoped that the soothing motions would start to relax him so he could get some sleep.  Unfortunately, for the time being, he was stuck being wired and awake listening to Christian’s soft snuffling and the voices inside his own head.  God, he hated those damned voices.

                #######

                Christian shifted under the blankets; his left hand stretched out across the mattress and encountered only cool sheets.  It didn’t matter that he knew Steve had to leave to catch an early flight, it was still disappointing to wake up alone.  Rolling on to his back he wriggled a little bit and smirked when his body reminded him of the pleasures he had shared with his lover the night before.  He brought his right hand up to rub at an irritation on his chest and hissed when his fingers encountered the sensitive flesh of the love bite Steve had inflicted during their lovemaking.  “Fuckin’ vampire,” he growled good-naturedly and swung his legs over the side of the bed.  He silenced the alarm which wasn’t due to go off for another fifteen minutes but if he got up now he’d definitely have time to stop for some good coffee on his way to the studio.

                Flipping on the bathroom light, Christian whistled out loud at his first sight of the large purple bruise, which was positioned almost exactly over his heart.  He started the shower to get the water warmed up as he brushed his teeth and cast his mind over the scenes he knew they were going to be shooting that day.  Thankfully the wardrobe he’d be dressed in would allow him to wear a dark tank shirt underneath; no one on the set would get a chance to see the livid mark he was going to be sporting for quite a few days.

                He leaned over to spit out the toothpaste and rinse his mouth and when he straightened up he burst out laughing.  The words “I love you”, surrounded by a large, sappy looking heart, were starting to appear as the steam covered the mirror.  He truly did love his dork.

                #######

                Steve stumbled off of the plane and down the jetway to the International arrivals terminal of Heathrow Airport.  He had gotten no sleep the night before and a screaming child during the flight ensured that he couldn’t doze off on the plane.  He was drained and wrung out and wanted nothing more than to claim his luggage and get a ride to his hotel.  If he could catch a nap he might even survive the dinner engagement he had later with a record label executive who was interested in distributing his music all over the United Kingdom and a good portion of Europe.

                He followed the signs to baggage claim and found the carousel designated for his flight.  Keeping his guitar tucked firmly into his side, he stood back from the scrum of people surrounding the carousel content to wait until the crowd cleared out.

                The first indication Steve had that his day was about to get worse was when it came down to only him and seven other people waiting around the revolving carousel.  The conveyor belt was still moving, giving them all hope that their belongings were about to put in an appearance.  One by one they happily picked up their luggage as it showed up and went on their way until Steve was the only one left watching a lonely hot pink suitcase continue to circle around and around.

                Eventually the carousel stopped moving and an airport employee showed up to remove the pink monstrosity.  “Um … excuse me,” Steve approached the young man.  “Where do I need to go to report my missing stuff?”  He knew he was right on the edge of whining but he really didn’t care.  He was beyond exhausted, he was stressed out, his head was starting to ache, and now this.  It was a pretty shitty way to kick off his trip.

                “I’m so sorry, sir,” the airport guy said.  “Please come with me and we’ll get you sorted out.”

                Steve hefted his guitar, “Thank you so much – uh –”

                “Rory,” the young man replied.  “You look like you’ve had a rough day, sir.”

                Blinking rapidly to clear his eyes of the sudden onslaught of emotion brought on by Rory’s kindness, he finally responded, “Yeah, you could say that.”  Steve was appalled by the quaver he could hear in his own voice.

                Rory more than proved his worth as he gently guided Steve through the labyrinth of paperwork he needed to fill out in order to put in a claim on the off chance that Steve’s luggage couldn’t be found.  Once that was done, Steve fully expected to be left on his own but Rory surprised him yet again by accompanying him to customs and explaining to the stern looking agent what had happened so that there wouldn’t be too many awkward or intrusive questions about Steve’s lack of luggage.  They did do a quick search of the guitar case but Steve had gotten used to that even when traveling just in the States.  With his laid back gypsy-ish looks it was a given that they gave him a little extra attention in security.

                As Steve carefully packed his guitar away Rory asked, “I’m guessing you don’t have a lift arranged?”

                A wry smile crossed Steve’s lips, “I’m not sure.  All I know is that I’m supposed to be meeting an exec for a business dinner but I’m not positive about the details.  Everything was in the second suitcase with my laptop.”  As they walked through the customs gates, Steve pulled his cell phone out and turned it on, “Guess I’d better call the guy and find out where I need to be.”

                “Hang on,” Rory grinned and tapped on Steve’s arm.  He pointed to where an older man in a typical chauffeur’s uniform had a cell phone clamped to his ear and a sign with the name ‘Carlson’ printed on it at his feet.  “I think your luck is about to change,” Rory grinned and waved at the driver as he guided his charge in that direction.  As they approached the other man, Rory said, “I think I have something that belongs to you.”

                The chauffer chuckled and put away his phone.  “I was just about to send out a search party.  Your luggage?” he asked Steve.

                “Beats the hell out of me,” Steve slurred tiredly.  “The airline has all of my information and they’ll let me know if they find it.”

                “They lost everything,” Rory explained.  “Steve carried his guitar on or it would probably be gone as well.”

                The chauffer gave a crisp nod and brought his cell phone back out.  “Not to worry.  We’ll get you taken care of straight away, Mr. Carlson.”

                “Steve,” Steve said quietly.  “You can call me Steve.”  He stumbled and without Rory’s quick move to grab his elbow he would have done a face plant on the airport floor.

                Wrapping an arm around Steve’s bicep, Rory steered him to a nearby row of chairs with the chauffer following behind them carrying Steve’s guitar.  “Can I get you some water or something?” Rory asked  as Steve dropped ungracefully into the nearest plastic seat and rubbed his temples.

                “If you don’t mind, that’d be great,” Steve responded and handed over some money.  “Get something for yourself and …” he waved at the chauffer who was once again holding his cell phone at the ready.

                “Graham, sir … Steve.”

                “Cool.  Please get something for yourself and Graham, too, Rory.  And thank you again so much.”

                “I’ll be right back.  Don’t move.”  Rory trotted off zipping under the signs leading to the food court.

                Graham cleared his throat somewhat hesitantly.  “Um … I hate to ask but are you okay for money?”  Steve looked confused.  “I just mean, if I take you somewhere to pick up some necessities do you have cash or should I see what I can arrange for you?”

                “Oh no!” Steve could feel his face heating up in embarrassment as he shook his head.  “No, I’m good.  I’ve got my wallet and credit cards.”

                “Wonderful!  Take a minute and think about what you’re going to need.  Let me call Mr. Levesque – you’re having dinner with him later tonight – I’ll confirm which hotel you’re booked at and then we can be on our way.”  Graham walked a little distance away to make his phone call.

                Steve closed his eyes against the pounding headache that felt like it was taking up permanent residence at the base of his skull.  He couldn’t believe his luck in finding Rory – who had gone above and beyond – and was trying to think of something he could do for the man to thank him for his kindness.  But first he had to replace all of his lost stuff.  There was no telling how long it would take to get his belongings back – if he ever got them back – but in the meantime he was going to need pretty much everything to get him through the rest of this trip.

                The squeak of sneakers on tile heralded Rory’s return.  He stopped a few feet away and softly said, “Steve?  You awake?”

                Blinking his eyes open slowly, Steve squinted at Rory, “Hey, yeah.  I’m awake.”

                “I got you water and caffeine.  Wasn’t sure which you were more in the mood for.”  He handed over the water and a bottle of Pepsi.

                “You are my hero,” Steve smiled lopsidedly and cracked open the soda.  After taking a long pull on the sweet beverage, he blinked back up at his new friend.  “You like music, Rory?”

                “Um … yeah.  Sure!”

                “How’d you like to come to my shows here in town as my guest?” Steve asked.

                “That would be super cool! … Um – could I bring someone with me?” Rory blushed as he asked.

                “Absolutely!  If you can hang here for a couple more minutes, I’ll make the arrangements with Graham.  Okay?”

                “You bet!” the younger man was practically bouncing on his toes.

                Graham finally finished his phone call and headed in their direction.  He paused to accept a bottle of water from Rory.  “Thanks, mate.”  He took a swig and smiled at Steve.  “I just spoke with Mr. Levesque.  He wanted me to let you know that I’m at your disposal for the rest of the day as needed.  He also said that if you require extra help with anything, just let him know and he’ll be happy to smooth the way for you.”

                “That’s awesome, Graham.  Thanks.  And I am gonna need your help because I would like Rory – and his friend – to be my special guests at the two private gigs here in town as well as the show at the convention this weekend.  Can we do that?”

                “Not a problem,” Graham nodded.  “Rory, if you can just give me your contact information and your home address, I’ll have the passes delivered to you later today by courier along with all of the details you’ll need to get you there and through security.”

                “Oh my gosh!  Thank you both so much!” Rory’s smile was blinding as he wrote out his information and handed it to Graham.  “And now I should get back to work.  I hope everything works out for you, Steve, and that the rest of your trip goes a little better.”

                Steve stood up and brought the younger man in for a hug.  “You have been amazing today, Rory.  Thank you so much for helping me get through everything.  I’m not sure I could have done it on my own.”

                “No worries!  I – um – guess I’ll be seeing you later!  Bye!”

                Graham and Steve chuckled as they watched Rory practically dance his way down the terminal corridor back to his station in baggage claim.

                Slumping back in his chair, Steve blinked up at Graham, “Now what?”  He reached back to rub the aching muscles in his neck.

                “Now we take you shopping.  What do we need to look for?”

                “Um … everything?” Steve snorted sarcastically.  His head dropped and he held up a hand, “Sorry.  I didn’t mean to snap like that.”  He paused and tilted his head to one side.  “I can probably get away with jeans and casual shirts for the most part but I’m guessing I’ll need something a little more dressy for dinner tonight and the meetings; socks and underwear for sure.  Toiletries – I’ll need … yeah, everything.  Something to pack them in, I guess; a duffle bag will do … And massive quantities of aspirin.”

                Laying a sympathetic hand on Steve’s shoulder, Graham said, “The shops should be open by the time we get into town.  Let’s get you kitted out and then I’ll take you straight to your hotel.  Mr. Levesque has called ahead and they will make sure they have a room ready for you when we get there.  Sound good?”

                “Sounds fantastic,” Steve sighed.  He picked up his guitar and followed the other man out to the town car at the curb.  Once he was finally comfortable in the luxurious back seat he did a little math and figured out that it was probably close to 1 a.m. in Portland.  Christian would have gone to bed long ago and, if he stuck to his normal routine, his cell phone would be charging out on the kitchen counter.  As badly as Steve wanted to hear his lover’s voice, he knew the best he could settle for right now was to leave him a voicemail.

                As the car pulled slowly into traffic, he pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial one.

                #######

                The first thing Christian did when he woke the next morning was check his cell phone to see if Steve might have called while he was sleeping.  He grinned when he saw that he had a message but the smile quickly left his face as he listened.

                _“Hey, babe.  I know it’s late for you but I wanted to let you know I made it to London.”_   Jesus he sounds beat, Christian thought as Steve paused for a moment.  A deep sigh reached his ears before the message went on.  _“That was the good news.  The airlines lost my luggage.  All of it; even the laptop hard shell case.  Thank god I carried my guitar on or I’d really be in trouble.  Right?”_   A shaky sounding chuckle followed the rhetorical question.  _“At least the record label exec has been understanding.  I’ve got a driver at my disposal for the day so we’re on the way to pick up some clothes and stuff so I can make it until – if – they find my bags.  After that he’s taking me to the hotel.  My head is exploding and I really need to get some sleep before this dinner thing tonight.”_   Another heavy sigh and Christian’s heart went out to his lover.  _“I don’t know how often I’ll have the chance to check in with you with the time change and all.  I’ll leave messages when I can, though, since I don’t have the computer.  God, Chris.  I just got here and all I want to do is go home … But enough of my pity party.  I’m sure you don’t need to hear this to get your day started.  I’ll check in when I can.  Love you.”_    

                Christian saved the message and put the phone back in its charger.  He did the mental calculations and figured that it was about two in the afternoon in London.  Steve had really sounded wrecked in his message and if he’d finally managed to get to sleep he wasn’t going to risk waking him back up just to talk.  He’d call later from the set when he got a minute.

                  

                The first person Christian ran into once he got to the studios was Aldis.  And he literally did run into him.  “Whoa!  Hey, Chris! … You okay, man?” the younger man asked when he saw the distracted look on his friend’s face.

                “Um … no.  Not really,” Christian responded quietly.

                “Steve okay?” Aldis was fairly sure there’d only be one reason for the huge swing from the glowing, happy, bouncy Christian who’d shown up at the studio just the day before.

                “He made it to London.  They lost all of his luggage, except for his guitar.  He sounded completely exhausted when he left me a voicemail at one this morning our time.”  Christian looked up with a wry grin on his face.  “He wants to come home.”

                “Oh, man.  That sucks!” Aldis frowned.  “He need anything?”

                “Not that he said.  The record company provided him with a car and driver; when he left the message they were on their way to gear him up before he got dropped at his hotel to grab some sleep.  I wanna call him so bad, man, but I can not risk wakin’ him up.”

                Aldis dropped a friendly hand across Christian’s shoulders.  “Relax.  Call him when we break for lunch.  He should be up and running by then.”

                Christian nodded and gave Aldis a faint smile.  “Thanks, man.  I’m gonna go to my trailer and get my head on straight before we get started.  See ya later.”

                “You know where to find me,” Aldis responded with a fist bump before he ambled off.

                  

                “Fuckin’ finally!” Christian growled and took off like a bat out of hell once lunch was called.

                “What got into him?” Gina sauntered over.  “He’s been a real pain in the ass all morning.”

                “Steve ran into some trouble in London,” Aldis said as Tim and Beth joined them with puzzled looks on their faces.

                “He okay?” Tim asked.  Ever since he’d helped Steve when Christian had his accident on the set he’d grown even closer to the two men.  He was ecstatic to know he was one of the first to know about – and to even help nurture – their relationship and was always ready to lend a hand – or a sympathetic ear – if they needed it.

                Aldis gave them a quick run down of what Christian told him that morning and finished by saying, “I don’t know if I should go check up on him or just let him be to cool off.  He’s pretty stressed out.”

                “I’ve got this one,” Tim smiled.  “I’ll give him about ten minutes to make his phone call and check in to see if he’s okay or if he needs help picking up the pieces.”

                “Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.  We can even put together a care package for him to send to Steve,” Beth offered and ambled off towards craft services.

                  

                “Fuck! … Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!”  The shouting was followed by the sound of something solid smacking into a wall.

                Tim hesitated before he knocked on the door to Christian’s trailer.  “Oh boy,” he muttered under his breath.  He decided not to announce his presence with a knock and was speaking as he pushed the door open, “You know you have to pay for anything you break,” he said holding his hands up in a pre-emptive surrender.

                Christian rounded on him with a deep growl, ready to lash out, but he deflated suddenly as if someone had let the air out of a balloon.  “I missed him,” he scowled.  “I fuckin’ missed him!  If we had broke for lunch when we were supposed to I’d have been here when he called,” he yelled and slammed his fists down on the counter top.

                “He leave you a message?” Tim asked calmly and stayed right where he was, not wanting to get within reach of those lethal hands.

                “Just long enough to tell me he was heading off to his dinner meetin’,” Christian sagged into the nearest chair.  “By the time he gets out of that we’ll be back on set.  And by the time we’re done he’ll be asleep and I won’t want to wake him up.”  He huffed a huge sigh and dragged his hands through his carefully coiffed mane of hair not caring that he’d need to head back to the make up trailer to have it all put back where it belonged.  “This sucks!”

                “Yeah, it does,” Tim said patiently.  “But it’s not gonna help either of you if you lose it, Chris.”  Dragging a chair over to face Christian, Tim sat down and looked his friend in the eye.  “If Steve’s having a bad time over there he’s gonna need you to be his anchor from here.  Even if that’s over the phone in voicemails.”  Christian’s head was cocked to the side; he was listening carefully to what Tim was saying.  “Just hearing your voice could be enough to pull him through a tough day.  And just hearing his voice should put a smile on your face even if he’s not doing or sounding his best.”

                A ghost of a smile drifted across Christian’s lips and he felt his cheeks heat up in a blush.  “Thanks, man.  I guess I needed that kick in the ass a little, huh?”

                “Yeah … maybe,” Tim huffed out a chuckle.  “Now, did you leave him a voicemail or did you just hang up and throw the cell phone across the room?”

                “I didn’t throw the cell phone,” Christian countered defensively.  “I – I threw the stress ball you gave me,” he admitted sheepishly.

                Tim burst out laughing at that.  “Well, I guess that’s one way to use it,” he snickered.  “Why don’t you make that phone call then head on over to craft services for some food.  And you might want to avoid the ladies from make up after what you just did to their hair,” he grinned.

                “Their hair? … Their hair???!” Christian scowled.  “Last time I checked it was still attached to my head … Now get and let me talk to my boy, Hutton.”

                “I’m gone,” Tim said with a wave and exited the trailer.

                Christian took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  He owed Tim a good steak dinner for talking him down from that one.  Grabbing his cell phone he took a minute to think about what he wanted to say before he hit the speed dial button and waited for Steve’s voicemail to pick up.

                #######

                When Steve got back to his hotel room he was a little happier than when he’d left it earlier that evening.  The people from the record label were very enthusiastic about bringing his music catalogue to Europe; he was hoping that the two private gigs he was playing the next couple of nights would help nail things down with them.

                Steve had been disappointed when he’d gone straight into Christian’s voicemail before leaving for dinner.  He really wanted to talk to his lover rather than just leaving another brief, mostly impersonal message but the time difference and their busy schedules were working against them.

                Taking his tie off and hanging it up on the off chance that he’d need to use it again, Steve also kicked his one pair of semi-dress shoes under the chair next to the bed as he wriggled his socked toes in relief.  Next to go was the mildly starchy shirt; the over-stiff collar had been driving him crazy all night long.  He slipped into a soft t-shirt and shucked out of his dress slacks to replace those with a fleecy pair of sweat pants.

                Finally comfortable, Steve grabbed his cell phone and flopped on the bed to check any messages he might have received.  He heaved a deep sigh when he saw the voicemail from Christian that had arrived no more than ten minutes after he’d shut the phone off for his dinner meeting.

                _“Hey, darlin’,”_ Steve felt a pool of warmth spread through his belly at the sound of Christian’s raspy voice.  _“We ran late before our lunch break today.  I’m so sorry I missed you.  I hope by now the airline has found your stuff and that you’re doin’ a little better?  If not, Tim, Aldis, and Beth are considering puttin’ together a ‘care package’ for ya.”  _A husky chuckle had Steve’s own mouth quirking up at the corners.  _“I told ‘em they’d better make sure the box was big enough for me ‘cause I figure that’s all the ‘care’ either one of us needs right now … I should probably go before Tim comes back to drag my sorry ass off to craft services.  Call me when you get a chance – even if it’s just to leave another message ‘cause I’m missin’ you like crazy.  I love ya, darlin’.  Bye now.”_

                Crossing his fingers that he might catch Christian on a late afternoon break, Steve hastily hit speed dial and held his breath as the connection was made.  Unfortunately, his hopes were dashed as the call once again went into voicemail.  This time, though, he was smiling as he left his message.

                #######

                “How about we meet up at the steak house in about an hour, Tim.  I’ll buy ya a nice dinner; we can down a few beers and catch the game on their big screen,” Christian called out as he headed towards his trailer after their day was done.

                “Sounds good!” Tim replied.  “I’ll call ahead and have them set us up with a good table.”

                “Great, man.  See ya then!” Christian bounded up the stairs and locked the door behind him.  He wanted to grab a quick shower and didn’t want to risk anyone walking in on him thinking he’d already gone for the day.

                  

                As Christian combed out his damp hair, he realized he’d forgotten to check his phone for messages.  He stomped his feet into his boots and slipped into a dark burgundy long-sleeved shirt, tucking it into his jeans, before he grabbed his cell and went directly to his voicemail.

                _“Hi, babe,”_ Steve’s voice purred in Christian’s ear as he slouched in his comfy recliner.  _“From your last message it sounds like things are pretty much par for the course.  Your shooting schedule keeps getting blown to hell and Tim’s riding herd on you to keep you from damaging something important.”_ Steve laughed and the sound sent shivers down Christian’s spine.  _“By the way, I’m loving your idea for a ‘care package’.  Can you have them send it FedEx?  Oh!  And bring some of my stuff ‘cause I’m still getting no love from the airlines.”_  A beeping sounded over the line followed by, _“Oh shit!  My phone’s dying.  Guess I’d better go, huh?  Not to mention the jet lag is seriously kicking my ass now and it’s already one in the morning here.  The execs are already excited about the catalogue so the two gigs the next couple nights should seal the deal.”_ More beeps.  _“Crap!  Gotta go.  Hopefully some of the fans who won the contest to get into the gigs will post pictures so you can see them but I’ll let you go, baby.  The phone will be off and charging so you won’t wake me if you call.  Miss you so much.  I love y—”_ the message cut off as Steve’s phone finally died.

                Christian sat for a moment and saved the message so he could listen again later but now he needed to head out to meet up with Tim for their dinner.

                #######

                There was no message waiting for Steve when he woke up the next morning.  He bit down on the disappointment and headed towards the shower so he could start what was going to be a busy – and a very long – day.

                He checked the phone one more time once he was dressed and about ready to head down to his ride just to make sure the message hadn’t been delayed for whatever reason.  No such luck.  Steve sat on the foot of the bed and dialed not even trying to figure out the time difference.  If he was lucky, he’d catch Christian.  If not …

                _“This ain’t Kane, it’s my voicemail.  You know what to do …”_ Beeeeep.

                “Um – hey, Chris.  I hope everything’s okay?  It’s just … I hadn’t heard from you and … shit …”  Jesus was that really his voice sounding so pathetic and needy?  “I – uh – won’t be available pretty much all day; got meetings and stuff before I head to the gig tonight.  The phone will be off so don’t worry about interrupting anything.  Love you.  Miss you.  Bye, sweetheart.”

                Steve shut the phone off and grabbed his guitar case, which was also holding a set of casual clothes for him to change into for the gig later.  Just as he was finishing his last minute checks to make sure he had everything, a polite knock sounded on the door.  “Hi, Graham,” he said as he pulled the door open.

                “Good morning, Steve,” the chauffer smiled.  He really was enjoying taking care of his charge and had even taken the time to drive him through different parts of the city so he could see more of the town he was visiting.  “Ready to go?”

                “Ready as I’ll ever be,” Steve tried hard to sound cheerful and knew he was failing miserably.  As they traveled down in the elevator he put his game face on and got ready to tackle his day.

                #######

                Christian was still sprawled across the mattress and deeply asleep when his alarm went off the next morning.  His hand fumbled out from beneath the blankets and slapped the clock into silence.  Groaning, he pulled the pillow over his head and contemplated trying to justify going back to sleep until … “Fuck!”  The blankets and pillow got flung out of the way and he bolted out of bed making a beeline to the kitchen and his cell phone.  His heart dropped to the floor as he saw he had an unlistened to message.  He began beating himself up mentally for doing what he considered to be the unforgivable: he’d never returned the one message from Steve from the day before.  He knew, before he even played the new voicemail, who the new one was going to be from.

                As Steve’s voice came through the receiver, Christian winced.  His lover sounded so hesitant and unsure, not like himself at all.  “Shit,” he cursed quietly and scrubbed his hands over his stubbled face.  He seriously needed to wake up before he called and groveled for forgiveness.

                #######

                Steve sighed and turned his phone off again.  They were almost at the venue for his first private performance; he had yet another meeting with a German distributor, then an informal dinner with the contest winners, before the gig itself.  That had been his one and only chance to check for any messages but his voicemail remained silent and he didn’t bother to leave another one of his own.

                “Is something wrong?” Graham asked from the front seat.

                “Probably not?” Steve admitted softly.  “It’s just … I haven’t heard from my partner since yesterday.  I’m sure he’s okay but he does stunt work and he’s been hurt in the past.”

                “Maybe there’s someone else you can call?”

                “They would have called me if anything happened.  I’m just over thinking things.”

                “If you’re sure?” Graham’s eyes showed concern in the rearview mirror.  “I can keep trying to call him for you?”

                “Thanks, Graham, but I’m good,” Steve settled back in his seat and started to focus on the evening’s events.

                #######

                “Steve … babe … I am so sorry,” Christian started immediately after the beep of Steve’s outgoing message.  “I was out late last night with Tim and I know there’s no excuse for me to forget callin’ you back.  I suck, man, that’s all there is to it.  Uh – you okay, darlin’?  You didn’t sound so good in your last message.  Listen, I – uh – I gotta head out to work.  I’m already late as it is so I’m due for another ass kickin’ from someone.  You call me the minute you get this.  I will do everything in my power to make sure I take the call.  No more of this voicemail bullshit, okay?  I love ya, darlin’.”

                Christian closed his phone and headed out still feeling like a first class schmuck.  He hoped he heard from Steve sooner rather than later.

                #######

                Steve was on cloud nine when he stepped off stage and into the welcoming arms of his appreciative fans.  The set he put together was a diverse mix of his entire catalogue.  Old and new, fast and slow, heartbreaking and sweet, and the crowd had been into it from the very first note.  The moment that had him glowing from the inside out happened during ‘One Thing’.  He’d looked out into the audience and spotted Rory.  His new friend was seated front row center with his arm wrapped around a very pretty young man; it was more than obvious that they were a couple and that the song was really hitting home for them.

                Looking out over the milling knot of people, Steve spotted the young lovers over near the bar.  He started making his way through the throng accepting backslaps and congratulations along the way.  “Hey, Rory!” Steve greeted and enveloped the smaller man in a huge hug.

                “Steve!  Oh my god!  The show was awesome!  Thank you so much for getting us tickets!”  Rory reached out and drew his date in close.  “Steve, I’d like you to meet Jedd.  Jedd, this is Steve.”

                Steve looked into a pair of the deepest brown eyes he’d ever seen and had no trouble guessing what had initially drawn Rory to the beautiful young man.  “Pleased to meet you, Steve,” Jedd responded in a delightful New Zealand accent.  “Thank you!  Your show was wonderful.”

                “It was my pleasure to invite you after everything Rory did to help me the other day.  So … you guys coming tomorrow and over the weekend?” Steve asked cheekily as he slung his arms over their shoulders and steered all of them right up to the bar.

                The bartender took their orders and while they waited Rory responded to Steve’s question, “We wouldn’t miss either show.  Um … Do you have any CDs we could get our hands on?  Or were they …”

                “In the luggage,” Steve finished the sentence with a grimace.  “But I’ll tell you what.  When I get home, I’ll send you a set.  Sound good?”

                “Fantastic!” Jedd smiled.  He blushed and smiled shyly as he asked, “Do you think you’ll be doing that song again that you did tonight?  You know the one …”

                Steve beamed and sang a few bars of ‘One Thing’.  “That one?” he asked.

                “Yeah!” Jedd responded.  “I loved all of your songs but that one … Brilliant!”

                “When you were playing it you looked like you were somewhere else,” Rory observed as their drinks were served.  “Or maybe thinking of someone else?”

                It was Steve’s turn to blush.  “Um … yeah.  He … he’s – uh – he’s in Portland and we haven’t really had a chance to connect since I got here.  All we’ve been able to do is leave messages and I miss him so much.”  Steve downed his drink in one gulp trying to clear the lump from his throat.  It didn’t work.  “Uh … Listen, I’m gonna go out back for a cigarette and some air.  Don’t go anywhere; I want to talk to you guys some more.  Okay?”  He took off for the door leading to the alley behind the club.

                “Oops!” Rory grimaced watching Steve’s hasty retreat.   

                “You gonna go after him?” Jedd asked.

                “Yeah.  I’ll give him a minute to collect himself and head out to make sure he’s all right.  Maybe he’ll get a chance to connect with his boyfriend.”  He leaned in and kissed Jedd softly.  “I can’t imagine being so far away from you, love.”  Jedd blushed and tucked a hand in Rory’s back pocket as they picked up their drinks and looked for a quiet place to stand away from the crush at the bar.

                  

                Steve’s hands were shaking as he brought the match up to light his cigarette.  He was trying to quit and had mostly been able to battle the cravings but there were still times that nothing beat the feeling of that first rush of nicotine hitting his bloodstream.  Still full of nervous energy from the show, he paced nearly out to the street before he turned around and headed towards the dead end of the alley.  He was so deep in thought that he never heard the footsteps sneaking up behind him from the street.  Just before he drew even with the door of the club again, something struck him hard across his lower back sending bolts of agony up his spine and down into his legs.  Before he could turn to confront his attacker, a second blow to his back and one behind his knees in rapid succession brought him down to his knees.  One final blow caught him at the base of his skull and he pitched forward to lay still and helpless. He never felt the hands going through his pockets as they removed his wallet and cell phone.

                Just as Steve’s assailants were getting ready to roll him over and start removing his jewelry, the back door of the club opened up and Rory stepped out.  “Hey!” he shouted at the shadowy figures he could see leaning over the prone form of his friend.  “What the hell are you doing?!”

                Three of the club’s bouncers flowed through the door at Rory’s shout and started down the steps towards the two thieves but they took off before the large, muscular men could get to them.  Rory bolted down the steps and landed on his knees next to Steve’s unmoving body as one of the bouncers yanked out a cell phone and called for the police and emergency services.  Reaching out a trembling hand, Rory nearly collapsed when he found a strong pulse beat at Steve’s carotid artery.  “He’s alive,” he practically sobbed to the three men who were now standing guard over the two of them.  Rory pulled out his own phone and pressed speed dial one.  “Jedd!” he exclaimed the minute the call was answered.  “Come out the back door of the club.  Steve was attacked!  He’s hurt and we’re waiting for the police and EMS guys.”

                “Unh,” Steve moaned and started to shift around just a little.

                One of the bouncers knelt down next to Rory and put a stilling hand on the downed musician’s shoulder.  “Don’t move, Mr. Carlson.  You were mugged.  The police and paramedics are on their way.  It’s best that you stay still until they get here to check you out.  Nod if you understand.”

                Steve barely moved his head but subsided under the warm hand.  His eyes blinked open and he saw Rory sitting next to him.  A tiny smile quirked the corner of his mouth as he said, “My knight in shining armor again?”

                Rory chuckled and felt a tear slip down his cheek, “It certainly appears that you need one.”  He could hear sirens rapidly approaching and brushed a comforting hand across Steve’s face.  “Help is almost here.  Hang on.”

                The bouncer who was kneeling next to Rory and Steve seemed to be in charge as he sent the other two back inside to let the organizers of the event know what had happened and keep more people from coming out to the alley where they’d only get in the way.  Jedd came through the door as they were leaving and Rory was quick to explain, “He’s with me.”  Jedd was allowed to pass and the bouncers disappeared through the door.

                The ambulance backed slowly into the alley; two paramedics leapt out and headed straight towards the small knot of people.  “Hello,” the female medic smiled.  “I’m Ellie and this is Thomas; Thomas is in training and he’s going to be helping me today.  What do we have here?”

                “This is Steve,” Rory squeezed Steve’s hand, “he was mugged.”

                Ellie’s smile disappeared, “Did any of you see the attack?”

                “Unfortunately not,” Rory answered.  “When I showed up they were already taking his stuff.  They got away with some of it when we scared them off,” he frowned.

                “You’re a very brave young man and a good friend,” Ellie praised as she knelt next to them and touched Steve’s face.  The skin was cooling rapidly and had a faint clammy feel to it; he was starting to go into shock.  “Steve, can you hear me?” she asked.  Steve nodded and his eyes slid closed.  “Can you tell me where they hurt you?”  Steve’s lips moved but his voice was so quiet that they couldn’t hear him.  Ellie knelt down right next to his face and softly said, “Can you repeat that?”

                “My back … my legs … my head …” Steve gasped and coughed a little.

                “Thank you, Steve.  I’ll try to keep it to yes or no questions for now and I want you to squeeze …?”

                “Rory, ma’am.”

                “I want you to squeeze Rory’s hand, once for yes and twice for no.”  Rory reached out and took hold of Steve’s nearest hand.  “Can you do that for me?”

                Rory’s head nodded.  “He squeezed ‘yes’.”

                “Very good.  Thomas!” she called to her partner.  “We’re going to need a backboard and a neck brace.”

                “Coming right up, boss lady,” Thomas answered and dove into the back of their vehicle.

                “Okay, Steve, remember just yes or no, okay?”

                Rory nodded.  “Yes.”

                “Can you breathe okay?”  A squeeze and a nod.  “Can you feel your fingers and toes?”  Another positive response.  “Excellent!  Now I’m going to do a quick examination with my hands.  I want you to squeeze Rory’s hand again when something hurts.  The harder you squeeze will let us know how much it hurts.”  Rory nodded again.  “You’re both doing just fine,” she smiled as she started to feel lightly up and down Steve’s arms.  It wasn’t until she moved up Steve’s neck that she got her first response.

                “He squeezed,” Rory said.

                “I thought as much.  I felt a bump just where his neck meets his skull.  Steve do you feel sick at all?”  Rory nodded.  “Okay.  Probably concussion there.”  Her hands started moving down the broad back and she didn’t need Rory to tell her when she reached the next trouble spot because Steve groaned loudly and tried to squirm out of her reach.  “Shhhh!  Take it easy,” she soothed and gently pulled Steve’s shirt out of his jeans.  She could already see the start of ugly bruising across the breadth of his lower spine.  The pattern showed that the blow had either come from a two by four or a baseball or cricket bat.  She could hear Thomas setting up their equipment behind her as she ran her hands down Steve’s legs; when she got to the bend of his knees she got nearly the same reaction she had when she’d touched his lower back.  Reaching into her back pocket she pulled out a sharp pair of scissors and sliced up the backs of both legs of his pants.  Her head came up when she heard Rory start to giggle.  “What’s so funny?”

                “He cussed you out.  Said he’d just bought the jeans.”  Rory gave her a brief run down of how he’d met Steve.

                “Jesus, this trip hasn’t exactly been a picnic for him has it?” Ellie said as she eyed the bruising on the back of his legs.  It was nearly a perfect match to the double set on his back.  She sighed and turned to Thomas, “I don’t want to give him anything for the pain until we know how bad his head injury is.  For now, let’s just get him immobilized and transport him.”  Thomas nodded and dragged the backboard around so that they could move Steve on to it.  As soon as he was face up, Thomas secured the neck brace and strapped the injured man down so he wouldn’t roll off the backboard.

                “Ah!” Rory cried out.  “He’s really squeezing my hand now!  Stop!”  He looked down and winced at the gray pallor of Steve’s skin and the tears streaming from his eyes.

                The police officers had finished interviewing the bouncer and started heading their way.  Thomas was on his feet to intercept them.  “He’s really not up to questions right now.  We’ll be transporting him to Mercy General in a few minutes.  If you meet us there I’m sure his doctor will let you know when you can talk to him.”

                One of the officers knelt down next to Steve and put a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “Take it easy, lad.  We’ll talk to you later when you’re feeling up to it.”

                “Thank you,” Steve ground out between clenched teeth.

                Thomas and Ellie grabbed the backboard and lifted Steve easily up onto the rolling gurney so they could get him into the ambulance.  When he refused to let go of Rory’s hand they had no choice but to let him come along.  They did draw the line at Jedd, though.

                “Wait!” Steve cried out.  He looked up at Rory.  “Tell Jedd to find Graham.  Let Graham know what happened and he’ll take Jedd to the hospital and wait.  If they let me go tonight, I’ll have Graham drop you off at home.  If they keep me, I’ll make sure he gets you there anyway.  Okay?”

                Rory nodded and turned to Jedd, “Did you get all that?”  Jedd nodded and Rory described Graham so he’d be able to find him.  “See you at the hospital.  I love you.”  Jedd smiled and headed back into the club to find the chauffer.

                “All right, let’s get you taken care of, Steve,” Ellie smiled and made sure that Rory was comfortable before Thomas took off with the sirens wailing.

                #######

                 A collective groan went up from the entire cast and crew as half of the set of Nathan Ford’s loft apartment went dark with no explanation.  “Cut!” the director screamed, looking like he wanted to rip his hair out.  The entire day had been plagued with incidents and they had barely gotten half of what was scheduled to be done shot even though it was nearing five.  As he stormed off to see how long it would take to fix this latest problem, he called back, “Sit tight while I find out what’s going on here.”

                Christian dropped heavily into his chair and yanked his phone out of his pocket.  He knew just having it on set while they were filming could earn him an even worse chewing out than he’d gotten for being late that morning but he didn’t care.  His cell had remained ominously quiet the entire day so he’d gotten away with his transgression thus far.  He had no messages or texts so he opened his Twitter account to see if anything might have shown up there.  When his own timeline didn’t show much, he clicked over to Steve’s and hit the mother lode.  Several people had posted the same link to a photo site housing pictures from the evening’s show that had been taken with a cell phone and uploaded almost immediately.

                As he started to scroll through the pictures, he felt a presence behind him and glanced up to see Beth smiling as she looked over his shoulder.  “Hey, darlin’,” he drawled tiredly.  “Hell of a day, huh?”

                “Yup,” she agreed.  “Crazy stuff going on for sure … Are those pictures from Steve’s show in London tonight already?”

                “Yeah,” a broad smile spread across Christian’s face as he flipped back to the first photo to share with her.  “Just look at him,” he said proudly as his lover’s passion and enjoyment shone through in each shot.

                “It’s so good to see him happy,” she grinned, “this hasn’t exactly been the trip he was hoping for.”

                “No kidding … What.  The.  Fuck?!” he snarled as the pictures changed from performance shots to later in the evening.

                Beth took a step back as the infamous temper began to flare.  “Hold up, Christian.  You don’t know what is going on.”

                “I know what it looks like,” he spat as he scrolled back to the first picture of Steve in a very close embrace with a young, androgynous David Bowie wannabe type.  Steve’s face was lit up like a Christmas tree and there wasn’t a spare inch of space between the two men.  A few shots later, another dark-haired young man showed up and Steve was tucked in between the two pretty boys with a sly grin on his face.

                “Excuse me, Beth,” Christian growled and punched the buttons on his phone.

                “Christian … Wait!” she tried to stop him but it was too late.

                “You’d better have a good story for these pictures I’m lookin’ at, Carlson.  Call me!” he snapped and hung up.

                “Don’t you think you should have engaged your brain before your mouth started moving?” Beth scowled and crossed her arms over her chest.

                “Huh?” he responded distractedly as he ‘favorited’ the tweet so he could find the photo URL easily once he got home to his computer.

                The minute the phone was put away, Beth lit into her co-star.  “Really?!” she punched him in the shoulder … hard.  “I can not believe you just did that!” she hissed.  “Poor Steve is having possibly the shittiest trip of all shitty trips ever and you have the nerve to leave that message for him to listen to after he’s finally starting to enjoy himself!  You’re a good guy, Christian, but sometimes you can really be a first class jackass! … Fix it now, mister!” she growled and stomped away.

                Christian’s jaw was on the floor as he watched an irate Beth disappear around one of the interior walls of the soundstage.  Okay … so maybe he’d been a little hasty with that voicemail but he still wanted an answer from his lover.  He re-dialed and calmed down as he waited for the call to be picked up.  “Um, I – I don’t know what to say, Steve.  As Beth just reminded me I let my mouth run away with me before I thought things through.  She actually punched me, man.  So … this would be my second strike of idiocy today.  Please call me as soon as you get this so I can grovel?  I miss you so much it’s makin’ me nuts.  Yeah … yeah okay … it’s makin’ me more nuts than normal.  You can stop laughin’ now.  Call me.  I need to hear you’re okay, babe.”

                As Christian hung up he caught a movement out of the corner of his eyes.  Beth was peeking around the wall she’d taken refuge behind and had clearly heard his second message.  She smiled and flashed him two thumbs up.  Now if Steve would be as forgiving after his two mental lapses of the day.

                #######

                “Officer Shaw … Mr. Carlson is right in here.  He’s been given something to ease his discomfort so let me check to see if he’s okay to answer your questions.”

                Through the floaty sensation he was currently experiencing, Steve listened to the conversation at the door and two sets of approaching footsteps.  He peeled his eyes open and smiled, “Heya, doc!”

                “Oh my,” the doctor grinned, “someone’s feeling no pain.”

                “Dude, I’m good,” Steve giggled.

                “Does that mean you’re up to talking to Officer Shaw?”

                “Su-u-u-ure …”

                “Good luck,” the doctor quipped and stepped away from his patient.

                Officer Shaw was trying hard to keep his lips from twitching.  “This shouldn’t take long.  I just have a few questions for you.”

                “Okie dokie.  Fire away,” Steve waved his hand in the air and fixated on the wavy motion of his fingers.

                “Did you – by any chance – get a look at the men who attacked you?”

                “Nuh uh.  I g-got hit from b’hind … What’d they hit me with?”

                “Your friend, Rory, said he thought it was cricket bats.”

                “Rory? … He’s good guy … Helps me.”  Steve was starting to slur his words now and was having trouble keeping his eyes focused.  “Is Rory here?” he asked and looked over at the door.

                “He sure is, Steve,” Shaw reassured the injured man.  “I have one more thing to ask and I’ll leave you alone so Rory can come in.”

                “O-o-o-kay.”

                Officer Shaw held up a plastic bag and handed it to Steve.  “These are the belongings the EMS techs removed from you earlier while they were prepping you for treatment.  Can you tell me if anything is missing?”

                Steve took the bag in shaking hands and stared at his jewelry.  “It’s all here,” he said in wonder.  “Oh my god.  It’s all here.”  His eyes welled up as he brushed his fingers over the plastic encased turquoise bracelet which was a twin to one on Christian’s wrist.  They had gotten them back when they first started to talk about their changing relationship; long before they’d done anything about it.  If he had lost that bracelet it would have broken both of their hearts.

                “Is anything missing?” Officer Shaw repeated after a pause to let Steve collect himself.

                “Shit,” Steve cursed.  “They got my wallet and cell phone,” he finally said.  “This just sucks,” he breathed quietly and let his head fall back on the pillow as a few more tears escaped from beneath his closed eyelids.

                Shaw placed a hand in the center of Steve’s chest.  “No more questions for now, Steve.  Rest and take care of yourself.”

                “Sorry I couldn’t help more,” Steve whispered as he clutched the bag of jewelry to his side.  “If I think of anything else I’ll have someone give you a call.”

                “Thank you,” Shaw said and left the room exchanging a sympathetic glance with Steve’s doctor on his way out.

                Before he could return to his patient, the doctor heard the sound of a throat clearing at the doorway.  Two young faces were peering past him at the man on the gurney with his hands pressed over his face.  “Can you lads give me a minute to check him over once more before we move him to a room for the night?”

                “What room are you moving him to, Dr. Collins?  We’ll get his chauffer and head there.  Graham will probably want an update he can pass along to Mr. Levesque,” Rory responded quietly.

                Dr. Collins smiled, “Steve was right about you, young man,” he said.

                “How so?” Rory looked puzzled.

                “You are – indeed – a very good guy.”  Rory blushed at the praise as the doctor continued, “It also appears that Mr. Levesque is a pretty good guy.  He’s arranged for Steve to have his own room tonight so we’ll be moving him to 301 shortly.”

                “Thank you, doctor,” Rory said and led Jedd down the hallway by the hand.

                #######

                “Okay, people, that’s a wrap for today and thank you for your patience and perseverance,” the announcement went out over the set’s PA system.  It hadn’t taken long for the electricians to fix the problem with the set lighting and everyone had agreed to stay on a couple of extra hours to try to make up some of the ground they’d lost that day.

                Christian scurried off of the soundstage and checked his phone hoping to see a message or two but his inbox remained empty.  He slumped to the steps of his trailer and debated calling again even though he knew it was after three in the morning in London.

                “So, did he call you back?” Beth walked up to him sucking on a Tootsie Pop.  She took in his dejected posture and the haunted look in his eyes and answered her own question, “Guess not, huh?”

                Christian sighed, “No,” he said briefly.  “I don’t know if I should call him or let it go for now.  It’s way early in the morning over there but who knows how long the reception went on after the show was done.  I don’t know if he got that message from me and he’s pissed or if he just hasn’t had time to check today.”  He paused and dragged a hand through his hair, “I’m really starting to hate this.”

                Beth drew him into a hug and felt him let loose a deep, shuddering breath as he relaxed into her embrace.  “Go home.  Try to relax and don’t over think this.  He’ll call you when he can.  I’ll bet he’s just been way too busy all day long.  Okay?”

                He pulled out of the hug and looked up at her with a small smile on his lips, “Thanks, darlin’.  Now you get home to that sweet little boy of yours and stop worryin’ about me and Steve.  See you tomorrow.”

                She looked uncertain but knew he’d bristle if she tried to hover any more.  “Good night, Christian,” she said and squeezed his shoulder before she took off.

                Christian soon followed heading towards his car with a heavy heart.

                #######

                Rory, Jedd and Graham were seated around the private room when Steve’s gurney was finally wheeled in.  They stayed out of the way while the nurse got him settled and then Graham approached the bed.  “Steve?  Are you awake?”

                “Yeah,” Steve whispered.  “I’m awake.  I can’t believe you guys waited around for me.”  He felt like he was about ready to bawl again but was putting it down to being exhausted and the drugs he had running through his system.

                Graham leaned over the bed, “Steve, Mr. Levesque wanted me to let you know he’s going to come by tomorrow morning to check in with you and see how you’re doing.  For now, I want to know what you need.  How can we help you?”

                Steve forced himself to focus.  He knew he had some stuff that needed to be taken care of immediately with the theft of his wallet and cell phone but for now he was stuck in bed until the doctors released him.  He swallowed and finally said, “I need to make some calls to the States.  Get my cell phone shut off and my credit cards cancelled.  Can I get access to a phone to do that? … Oh shit!  What time is it over there?”

                Graham glanced at his watch and did a quick calculation.  “It’s about eight in the evening so not too late.”  He handed over his cell phone.  “Here use this to make your calls.”

                “Are you sure?” Steve asked, clutching the device like a drowning man holding tight to a life preserver.

                “It’s a company phone.  Go right ahead.”

                “God … thanks,” Steve choked out and pushed through the fog in his brain to dredge up of the few phone numbers he actually memorized for when he didn’t have speed dial available to him.  He pressed the buttons carefully and crossed his fingers as it started ringing.  “C’mon, Christian.  If I ever needed you to pick up for me, now would be the time,” he muttered.  When it went into voicemail, the moan that issued from Steve’s throat was more the sound a wounded animal might make than a human being but he brought himself back under control and decided to leave a message just in case, “Chris?  It’s me.  I … I got mugged outside of the venue tonight.  I’m – uh – in a local hospital overnight for observation but they should let me out tomorrow if the tests they did come out okay.  They got my wallet and cell phone, Chris.  I’m gonna try to get a temporary phone till I can get back to the States so I might not be calling much till I get home.  Guess I’ll call Darren next.  I need help getting my phone and credit cards shut off pretty quick.  Don’t call me back till I get the temporary phone; this one belongs to my driver.  God, I miss you so much!”  He hung up before he broke down.

                Pulling himself together quickly, Steve dialed the second number.

                “Hello?  This is Darren.”

                “Oh thank god!” Steve sobbed out of sheer relief.

                “Steve?” the shock was obvious in Darren’s response.  “Dude, is that you?”

                “Oh god, Darren!” were the only words he could get out for a few moments.  Steve could hear Darren on the other end making soothing shushing noises but nothing was going to stop the rushing tide of words as he recounted everything that had happened to him since he’d landed in London.  Eventually he ran out of things to say and waited for a response as he tried to catch his breath.  When there was slence from the other end of the phone he started to panic a little.  “Darren? … You still there?” he asked shakily.

                “Sorry, buddy.  I’m here.  I just told Ro to find the spare set of keys you gave us for your place.  We’re gonna head over there as soon as you tell me what you need us to do.  But first, are you okay?  You said you’re in the hospital …”

                “The docs decided to keep me in ‘cause I got knocked out and have some wicked bad bruising on my back and legs.  They think I should be able to go back to the hotel tomorrow if everything checks out okay.”

                “Jesus, Steve!” Darren breathed out slowly.  “You talk to Christian yet?”

                A hysterical laugh bubbled up before Steve could stop it.  “We haven’t managed to connect once since I got here.  We were leaving voicemails back and forth for a while but I haven’t heard from him in over a day now.  I just left him a voicemail but told him he couldn’t call me back; I’m using a borrowed phone.”

                “I’ve got you covered, my man,” Darren reassured him.  “Now what do we need to do?”

                Steve’s brain was in overdrive now that he was actually talking to someone who could help him.  “Okay.  You know where I keep my records and stuff at the house.  Grab my last cell phone bill and bank statement.  If you could call the phone company and bank and have them shut down everything until I can get back home and start working on replacements, that should do for a start.”

                “Okay, you got it.  What else?”

                “I’m going to need money.  Can you wire me about two thousand dollars out of the company account?  Make it half in pounds and half in U.S. currency?  Have it sent to Mr. Levesque’s office; he’s coming to see me tomorrow so he should be able to drop it off to me.  You’ll find his office’s address in our Dropbox account.  I put it in a folder that both you and Christian could access just in case.  I’m not sure what else I’m going to need but at least this way I’ve got everything immediate that comes up covered and can convert anything additional I need with the U.S. money.  I’ll put the money back as soon as I can once I get back.”

                “Don’t worry about that, Steve.  Let’s get you back on your feet and healthy; then we can worry about who owes who what.  It’s not like we’re hurting financially or anything.  Now is that it?”

                “That’s all I can think of right now, D,” Steve said tiredly.  “I’m gonna try to get hold of one of those pre-paid cell phones to use for the rest of the time I’m here.  I’ll call you and give you that number once I’m set up.  I’m actually gonna try to finish up the trip.  I have a feeling we’re gonna go day by day to see how I’m feeling.  If I wind up coming home sooner, I’ll let you know.”

                “And don’t forget to call if you need anything else no matter what time it is, buddy.  Okay?  And, hey, listen … we’re gonna get your phone and bank stuff taken care of tonight as soon as we get your paperwork.  Do you want us to call and let you know it’s done?”

                “Nah.  I think I’m gonna let the doc give me some good drugs so I can pass out for the rest of the night.  How about I give you a call once I get set up with my temporary phone just to see if there’s anything else you need from me.”

                “Sounds good, Steve,” Darren said warmly.  “Go and rest.  Take care of yourself.”

                “Thanks, dude.  I owe you and Ro big time when I get back home.  Give her a big hug from me?”

                “You know it,” Darren responded.  “Now get some sleep.”

                “Will do,” Steve confirmed and shut the phone off.  Now that his mission was accomplished he was completely exhausted and slumped back on the bed letting Graham’s cell phone fall to the mattress beside him.

                “Steve?” Rory said quietly from the foot of the bed.

                “I’m okay, Rory.  Just really tired.”  Steve opened his eyes and tried to produce a reassuring grin.  He wasn’t sure how successful he was but both Rory and Jedd smiled back at him.

                “If you don’t need anything else tonight, I’m going to take these two lads home for the night,” Graham chimed in.  “And I’ll pick up one of those pre-paid phones for you to use on my way back here with Mr. Levesque tomorrow.  We probably won’t be here before eleven but by then you should know if you’ll be able to get out of here.  I’ll also leave Mr. Levesque a message so he knows to expect the wire transfer for you at his offices.”

                “Graham, thank you so much.  You and Jedd, too, Rory.  I hope you guys don’t have to get up early to go to work.”

                “We actually were both able to get time off since we figured we’d be out late after your shows,” Jedd blushed.  “We’re good.”

                “Just make sure you’re there tonight.  I may need the moral support, guys,” he smiled wryly.

                “I’m sure Mr. Levesque will have something to say about you performing so soon,” Graham scolded mildly.

                “Let’s just play it by ear and see what the doc says,” Steve nodded.  “I’d like to keep going if I can.  If I can’t, I’m not stupid and won’t push it.”

                “Very good,” Graham capitulated.  “Now are you two ready to go home?” he asked the young lovers.  Rory nodded and after a quick round of good night’s the three men left the room.

                #######

                It was nearly 10:30 before Christian finally gave up his battle to stay awake any longer.  He’d picked up Chinese food for dinner on his way home and spent the evening studying his scenes for the next day’s shooting schedule.  He wasn’t going to be needed much and was grateful he wouldn’t have to do any stunt work.  His concentration was completely shot thanks to not having heard from Steve.  His phone had rung around eight but the number had shown up as “Restricted” and he didn’t want to pick up what was probably a telemarketer and risk missing a call from Steve while he was on the line.  He saw that whoever it was left a message but he had no desire to listen to it. He could fast forward through and delete it later.

                He wandered through the house turning out lights and locking up before going to his room to change for bed and brush his teeth.  For some reason he flashed back to the morning Steve had left him the silly message on the mirror and he grinned around his toothbrush as warmth spread through his entire body.  Christian headed back to the kitchen but before he plugged his phone into the charger for the night, he tried one more time to call Steve.  His shoulders slumped as the voicemail engaged again but he smiled and started talking, “Hey, baby.  I’m hopin’ mine will be the first voice you hear in the mornin’.  I hope you’re not mad about that bitchy message I left.  It was knee-jerk idiocy at its finest and I’m hopin’ it won’t happen again … but you know me and my temper.  You should have another gig tonight, but if you have a chance to call me at all during the day, do it.  I don’t have a lot of on camera time scheduled but they want me on set all day just in case; you wouldn’t believe all the stupid shit that happened today.  I’ll keep my phone on unless I’m actually in a shot.  I really want to talk to you, darlin’ so let’s try to make it happen.  If not, I’ll look for more pretty pictures of my favorite guitarist from the show tonight.  I love you,” he rasped and turned the phone off for charging.

                Christian shut off the last of the lights and padded down the hall to his lonely bed.

                #######

                After spending one of the most unpleasant and sleepless nights he could remember in a long time, Steve was starting to rethink his idea to continue with the planned events on his trip.  His back felt like it was on fire and every time he had to pee it was a new adventure in agony.  Doctor Collins had been in to see him first thing in the morning and let him know that the tests and scans they had run on him when he was first admitted had shown no evidence of breaks or fractures in his head, back or legs but he did have severe bruising on his lower back and behind his knees.  The worst news was that the bruising was affecting his kidneys; he was going to be passing blood for quite a while until they healed properly and it was going to be very uncomfortable.  He was, however, content to wait until his visit from Ian Levesque to see what the man who was sponsoring the trip had to say to him before making his final decision.  He leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes hoping to catch a little more sleep.

                No sooner had that thought crossed his mind when the door to his room opened and a tall, distinguished looking man with a mane of silver hair stuck his head through.  He forced his eyes to focus as the man said, “Hello, Steve.  It’s Ian.  Are you awake?  I’m sorry we had to meet again under such distressing circumstances.  I was looking forward to talking with you some more tonight after your performance.”

                “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind either, sir,” Steve said wryly and reached out to shake Ian’s hand with the hand that didn’t have IV lines stuck in it.

                “I can imagine,” Ian smiled and shook Steve’s offered hand gently before taking the seat next to the bed.  “How are you feeling?”

                “I have a sneaky suspicion I’d be doing a lot worse without the good drugs they’ve been giving me but the doc told me this morning I’m going to be fine.  It’s just gonna take a while.”

                “Well, as soon as you feel up to traveling, let me know and I’ll arrange a flight home for you.  Until then, please feel free to stay on as my guest,” Ian offered generously.

                “Actually, sir, I’d – uh – like to try performing tonight.  See how it goes.  I’ve got a prescription for painkillers and if I can rest up until the show I should be able to go on.  I’d hate to disappoint your contest winners.  I’d just need a stool or chair on stage.  Don’t think I’m quite up to standing for the whole show.”

                “Steve … are you sure?  I’m sure everyone would understand,” Ian offered a token protest.

                “Um … yeah.  Let’s go ahead and do tonight.  See how it goes,” Steve shrugged.  “If it’s too much I’ll let you know and we can figure out what to do then.  Okay?”

                Ian nodded.  “All right.  We’ll do it your way for now.  When do you get out of here?”

                The door swung open again to admit Doctor Collins.  “Are you ready to be sprung, Steve?” he asked with a smile.  “I even brought you a set of loose scrubs you can wear out of here seeing as your clothes were pretty much destroyed last night.  We did manage to save your shoes, though, and ran your socks and underwear through the wash for you,” he handed over a bundle of clothing.

                “Cool!  Thanks, doc.  What about the painkillers?”

                “Believe me, there is no way I’d forget those.  You’ll be hating life if you don’t have them.”  The doctor held up two large bottles.  “The blue labeled bottle is for daytime.  Make sure you take one every four hours.  The longer you wait between doses, the worse you are going to hurt.  The red labeled bottle is for nighttime.  Try to time taking them so that the schedule coincides with with your daytime meds but there won’t be any harm if you overlap them.  Do not – under any circumstances – drink anything alcoholic while you’re taking these unless you want to wind up back in hospital.  Understood?”

                “Yes, sir,” Steve nodded solemnly and took the bottles.

                “Now, we’re going to give you one more dose via IV before we check you out so you won’t need to take any of the pills for four hours.  And I also want to give you a copy of your prescriptions.  Keep them with you at all times, especially when you are traveling.  The drugs are powerful narcotic painkillers and without the prescriptions you will run the risk of them being confiscated either by a customs agent or someone in the TSA.  It will also let you get refills as often as you need them once you get home.  The supply you’ve got there should last you at least three weeks.”  The doctor paused and waited until Steve finished looking over the paper he’d been handed.  When he nodded and put it with the pills, Doctor Collins continued, “I’ll fax a copy of your treatment to your doctor back in the States.  You already know you’re going to be passing blood when you urinate for a week or more.  If it gets worse instead of better or if the pain increases, get yourself in for another series of tests.  We only found bruising but there is a possibility that you could develop an infection down the road.”

                “Um … okay,” Steve didn’t sound so sure of himself this time.  “They really did a number on me, didn’t they?” he asked.

                “Any type of trauma like that is a shock to your body.  The fact that you are so far away from home could add to the emotional – as well as the physical – stress making things worse.  I’m hoping that won’t be the case but don’t want anything to come as a surprise to you.”

                “Thanks … I think,” another wry grin crossed Steve’s lips.  “I – uh – can’t remember … did I give you guys contact info for Darren and Ro?  They can get the paperwork to my doctor at home.”

                Collins chuckled.  “Yes, you did, and I’ve already signed your release papers.  Why don’t you go ahead and get changed into the scrubs.  I’ll remove the IV lines but leave the shunt in for now.  Once you’re dressed, I’ll have the nurse come in and administer the last of the pain shots for you.  Then you can be on your way.  I take it you have a lift?”

                “Graham is out in the hallway waiting for us,” Ian nodded.  “We’ll make sure he gets back to his hotel safely.”

                “Perfect.  I think we’ll leave you to change clothes but we’ll be right outside if you need help.”

                “Thanks, doc!” Steve said and shifted his legs carefully over the edge of the bed.

                As the two men exited the room, Steve waited for his head to stop spinning before he slid off the hospital gown and the loose fitting bottoms he’d been given to help keep his bruised legs warm.  He pulled the extra-large scrub top over his head and put his hands gingerly through the armholes.  So far so good … but he had yet to put pressure on his knees and his lower back.  He was not looking forward to that exercise.  To stall for a little more time, he brought his legs back up on the bed and decided to put on his shoes and socks first.  His back sent him unpleasant twinges each time he stretched forward but, so far, nothing was unbearable.  Hopefully that meant he’d be able to handle anything as long as he stuck to the correct meds schedule.  But now it was time for the pants; he couldn’t put it off any longer.  Underwear went on first.  He threaded his feet through slid them up his legs until he stopped at the knees.  Wanting to only stand up once, he shook out the scrubs pants and carefully repeated the process until the pants were even with the briefs.  It was moment of truth time.  He hadn’t been on his feet at all since the thieves had literally taken him out at the knees.  He slid slowly down until his sneakered feet were resting on the floor and carefully levered his weight off of the bed.  At first it didn’t hurt too terribly badly but the longer he remained standing the worse it was getting.  Reaching down with one hand, keeping the other one on the bed to alleviate some of the pressure, he pulled the pants up over his butt and his hips and finally sagged back on the bed in relief, curling into a ball of pain and keeping all of the pressure off his spine.  “Doc?” he called out breathlessly.

                Collins, Levesque, and Graham filed in and took in the wreck on the bed.  “I’ll go get the nurse with that injection,” Collins said and backed out of the room.

                “Hate to tell you this, but you don’t look so good,” Ian said with a straight face.

                “Funny,” Steve panted as the nurse came in and quietly administered the drug.

                “Give it about ten minutes to start working and you should be good to go,” she said and patted his hand right above where the IV shunt still resided before she removed the needle and put a bandaid over the puncture wound.  “You’re all done,” she smiled.

                “What?  No lollipop?” Steve pouted cheekily.

                “I’ll see what I can do,” she said and almost made it out the door before she burst into laughter.

                Graham stepped forward, “While we wait for the joy juice to kick in, here’s your temporary cell phone.  It’s already been activated and the number is tucked inside the case for you.  I’ve also got your money.  There’s one thousand each in U.S currency and British pounds as you requested.  I’ve got a cash pouch for the bulk of it but took the liberty of picking you up a new wallet as well.”

                Steve accepted the phone and money with shaking hands.  “If you ever come to the States looking for a job, Graham, give me a call.  You are amazing,” he said.

                The door opened one more time and the nurse backed in with a wheelchair.  “Your chariot awaits, my lord,” she grinned.  “And since you were such a good boy …” she dropped a bag of suckers on the bed next to him.

                Neither Ian nor Graham could hold back their laughter at the priceless look of delighted shock on Steve’s face.

                “All right,” Graham said once he could finally speak again, “let’s get you back to your hotel so you can rest up for tonight.”   

                Ian also leant his strength and between the two of them they were able to get Steve situated without aggravating his back too much.  A soft pillow was tucked between Steve’s spine and the chair and he relaxed even further.

                The nurse took control of the wheelchair and steered him out of the room with Graham leading the way and Ian following behind carrying a bag with Steve’s new phone, jewelry, meds, money, and his stash of lollipops.

                  

                As the car drove away from the hospital, Steve took the bag with his stuff and pulled out his temprorary cell.  It was a simple phone with texting capabilities but he was fairly certain he wouldn’t be needing anything fancier for the time being.  Flipping it open he looked over at Ian, “Do you mind if I call my – uh – Christian?”

                Ian smiled, “Go right ahead, Steve.  I’ve got a couple of calls of my own to make.  Need to make sure we get you set up properly for tonight’s show.”

                Steve ducked his head and dialed, making sure to save the number.  It rang through and immediately went to voicemail.  “Hey, Chris,” Steve sighed.  “Shit, I don’t even know what time it is for you.  Uh – anyway, I just called to let you know they sprung me from the hospital this morning; what is today … Thursday?  I guess I’m gonna be hurting for a while but I’ll be okay eventually.  Anyway, I talked to Ian and I want to try performing tonight; I don’t want to disappoint anyone.  And I – uh – got a phone till I can replace the one that got stolen.  Let me give you the number …” he found the card Graham had tucked in the case and read it out.  “I’ll be at the hotel all day resting up so give me a call when you get this.  I miss you, Chris.  Gotta go.  We’re coming up on the hotel and the drugs are really starting to make me loopy.  Talk to you later, babe.”  Steve put the phone away and lay his head back on the seat for the remainder of the trip.

                  

                By the time they got inside the hotel, Steve was out of it but he wasn’t too far gone to realize they were going to a different room.  “Um – guys?” he slurred as they steered him into a suite with two bedrooms.  “What the hell?” he asked and looked around owlishly.

                Ian guided Steve to sit on the overstuffed couch and said, “I don’t want you here on your own just yet.  Graham is going to stay with you at least today and tomorrow until we know you’re all right.”

                Steve squinted up at Ian, “Okay … cool!  You guys, man … you guys are awesome!”

                “Indeed we are,” Ian agreed.  “Now I’m going to be on my way so I’ll leave you in Graham’s capable care and see you at the club tonight.”

                “Sounds good, Ian, and thank you so much.”

                Ian patted Steve on the shoulder and handed Graham the room keys on his way out.

                “What do you say we get you into your bedroom so you can stretch out and maybe get some sleep?” Graham suggested.  “I’m betting you didn’t rest well last night.”

                “You wouldn’t be wrong, my friend,” Steve concurred.  “Let me make one more call.  I have to let the airlines know my new number in case they ever find my stuff.  Then I’ll just text the information to Darren and Ro.  After that I’m all yours.”

                “I’ll go turn down the bed while you finish up, then.”  Graham took off his cap, jacket and shoes before heading into the master bedroom suite.

                As he dialed the number the airline had given him, Steve wished he could remember the direct dial number to his real voicemail but maybe Christian would call him back on the new phone number soon.

                #######

                The freak incidents that plagued the shooting schedule the day before carried over into Thursday’s filming.  They were getting further behind and since Christian hadn’t been needed yet, he’d spent the time since he arrived at the studio in his trailer … alone.  This was not necessarily a good thing.

                Figuring that he was probably going to have a lot of down time, Christian brought his laptop with him and borrowed a portable printer from one of the production offices.  He went through the concert photo links from the previous night and downloaded a bunch of the pictures that he then proceeded to print out.  He wanted to get a better look at the ones from after the show to see if he could figure out what was going on with Steve and the two guys he was hanging all over.  Nothing he was seeing was giving him any degree of comfort.  The record executives were easily identifiable by their more conservative attire; they weren’t actually wearing suits but they didn’t have the jeans and t-shirts on that the more casual attendees were dressed in.  The contest winners were all wearing laminated access passes so he knew the two strangers weren’t part of either of those groups.  Knowing all of that did him no good; he still had no idea who they were or why they were being so chummy with his Steve.

                Christian powered down the computer and shot a death glare at his cell phone.  It remained ominously silent and, after receiving a second call from a different unknown and restricted number, he was sorely tempted to change his own number to stop the annoying calls.  He wouldn’t do it before Steve got home; they were having enough trouble connecting as it was without throwing a new phone number into the mix.

                Just as he was getting ready to try calling again, a loud knock sounded on his trailer door.  “What?” he snapped.

                “Don’t you go getting all sassy with me, Christian Kane,” Aldis’ voice drifted through the closed door.

                Christian stomped over, unlocked the door and shoved it open.  “Let me guess,” he said snarkily, “y’all finally need me?”

                “Back that bus up, Mr. Sunshine,” Aldis frowned and held his hands out in front of him.  “They just called lunch while the tech crew tries to find out what’s wrong with the sound boards.”

                Christian rolled his eyes over the latest technical mishap to hit the set.  “So what?  You – you lost a bet and had to come prod the snarling grizzly out of his cave?” he smirked.

                “Well, I wouldn’t exactly …” Aldis trailed off with an embarrassed grin.  “Okay, yeah, I lost the damn bet.  But Tim was gonna come no matter what.”  This time Aldis’ smile was genuine and full of warmth.  “You do know Steve will kick all our asses if we let you get run down while he’s gone … and I have a hunch he might be even scarier than you when he gets mad.  You know what they say about looking out for the quiet ones.  I’m just sayin’ …” he continued to ramble.

                While he’d been listening to Aldis, Christian had lost his tense, angry posture and now his shoulders sagged in defeat.  “You’re not wrong about Steve, you know,” he said softly.  “He’s got a temper you wouldn’t believe when he gets goin’.”  Christian smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.  “Of course that could all be a moot point; he might not even care any more.”

                Aldis’ mouth dropped open.  “Oh hell no … You did not just say that,” he admonished.  “Where did that come from?”

                Christian stepped aside, allowing Aldis into his on set sanctuary; he waved at the pile of photos.  “These are pictures from last night’s show and I haven’t heard a peep from him since very early yesterday.”

                As he flipped through the printouts, Aldis’ eyebrows rose in disbelief.  “No, man,” he shook his head and pushed the pictures into a neat pile.  “Uh uh … There has got to be an explanation and I refuse to believe he’d be stupid enough to step out on you when he knew there’d be cameras in the room.”

                “Yeah.  Well, I keep tellin’ myself that but with him not callin’? …” Christian let the sentence trail off and perched his sunglasses at the end of his nose.  “C’mon.  Let’s get out of here before Hutton sends the cavalry.”

                Aldis wasn’t comfortable letting the subject drop like that but it was obvious Christian didn’t want to discuss it any further.  Shaking his head in exasperation, he followed his co-star out the door and down the trailer steps.

                #######

                About three songs into his show, Steve was seriously starting to doubt his decision to perform that night.  He had slept most of the afternoon and felt much better but, even though he was sitting during his set, his back was starting to throb.  He finished ‘Piñata Novia’ and signaled to a server that he needed another bottle of water.  He was due for his next dose of pain meds and knew he wouldn’t make it through the rest of the night without it.

                As he downed the pill and drained the bottle of water, Steve caught the concerned stares being directed at him from Jedd and Rory in the second row.  They were frowning as he shoved the bottle of pills back into his jeans pocket but he gave them a small smile and nodded to indicate that he was okay.  Their skeptical looks in return let him know that they didn’t believe him but they settled back in their seats for the time being.

                  

                “Get me out of here,” Steve whispered under his breath as Rory and Jedd stepped in and hooked Steve’s arms over their shoulders.  He grunted in pain as the muscles in his back protested and the room did a slow rumba in front of his eyes.  “Wait,” he ground out and swallowed to keep all of the water he’d drunk during the performance from making a return appearance.   

                Ian Levesque hurried over to where the three men were huddled at the front of the stage area.  “Is there a problem, gentlemen?” he asked in concern.

                “I just need somewhere to sit – or lie – down for a few minutes,” Steve admitted.  “When I stepped down off the stage platform, I got a really bad back spasm.”

                Levesque nodded briskly, “Follow me.  There’s a couch we can use in the manager’s office.”  As they started moving the injured musician out of the crowded room, Ian continued, “You should have said something earlier, Steve.”

                “It just happened,” Steve hissed.  They eventually reached the office; Jedd and Rory lowered him gently to the sofa.  “I finished answering all of their questions and was getting ready to head to the bar for some more water when the damned thing just clenched up on me.  Feels like a fist is knotted around my spine.”  Carefully turning sideways, Steve maneuvered himself so he was lying face down and moaned in relief.

                “I’ll get you that water, Steve,” Jedd said and darted out of the room.

                “You’re sure you’re all right,” Ian asked.  “I can have you back in hospital straight away if you need to go.”

                “No … no.  I should be okay – well at least able to move under my own power in just a bit.  Then I’ll head back to the hotel, take my overnight meds and be back on my feet in the morning.”  As Jedd ran back in the room with a couple icy bottles of water, Steve raised his right hand to take one.  “Thanks, Jedd.  You’re a life saver,” he smiled and took a long pull on the bottle.

                “All right.  Just let me know when you’re ready to leave and I’ll have Graham pull the car right up to the back door for you.”

                “Thanks, Ian.  And I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know if I can do the show at the convention tomorrow night.  I’ll need the same set up with a chair and lots of water.  It worked well tonight.”

                Ian looked very doubtful that his guest was going to be in any shape to play but didn’t say a word as he left the office shaking his head in amusement.

                “Why don’t you guys go to the bar and get a couple of drinks.  Tell them to put it on my tab,” Steve offered.

                “Um … okay,” Rory said hesitantly, “but we’re coming straight back here to help you out until you’re ready to go.”

                Steve smiled, “Sounds good.  Now go.”  As soon as he was alone he pulled out his phone.  He still had no messages but decided to leave another one of his own.  “Hey, baby,” he said hating that his voice was slurred from exhaustion, the meds, and the pain itself.  “Just checkin’ in.  I survived the show tonight but my back is screaming like a bitch.  I’m heading back to the hotel as soon as I can move and have to let Ian know tomorrow if I can make the convention events happen.  Like I guessed, we’re gonna take this day by day.  Haven’t heard from you in a few days, sweetheart, an’ I’m worried.  I miss you.  I love you.  Bye, babe.”  He hung up just before his two friends came back into the room.   

                They pulled a couple of the desk chairs around to face him and sat down to keep him company while he finished his water and waited for his back to unknot.

                #######

                It was now 2:30 and the issues with the soundboard still hadn’t been fixed.  Christian was in the middle of a killer game of Texas Hold ‘Em between himself, Tim, Beth and Aldis when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.  He fumbled it out into his hands and scowled when he saw the display.  “God damn it!” he cursed.  “I don’t know what’s goin’ on but I keep getting’ these unknown and restricted phone calls.  As soon as Steve gets his ass back into this country I’m changing my damned phone number so these fuckin’ telemarketers can’t call me any more,” he snarled.

                Tim reached over and pried the cell phone out of Christian’s furious death grip.  He shot a concerned glance at Aldis and Beth.  “You okay?” he asked quietly hoping to draw Christian into a conversation until he calmed back down.

                Thumping his elbows on the table, Christian bowed his head down.  He pushed his fingers through his hair, grabbed two hands full, and drew in a deep breath before releasing it on a shaky exhale.  “I – I – I don’t know what I am, man,” he admitted.  “I feel like my brain is gonna explode.  I ain’t sleepin’.  I’m worried sick about Stevie … and all this – all this goofy shit goin’ wrong here is not helpin’.”

                “Chris, listen,” Aldis said, “Why don’t you go check in with Dean.  See if you can get out of here for the day.  God knows when they’re gonna get this latest snafu fixed up.”

                Christian’s head came up slowly.  “Because I’d be so much better off at home alone and over thinkin’ all this?” he snorted.  “Yeah … no.”  He made a half-hearted swipe at his cell phone but Tim kept it just out of his reach.  “C’mon, man, you’re killin’ me here.”

                “You gonna behave?” Tim asked as he put the phone on the table and pushed it over with a fingertip.

                “Yes, dad,” Christian grumbled and slid the phone the rest of the way across the table.  “I’m gonna check my feeds.  See if anything’s been posted from Steve’s gig tonight.  I’ll catch the next hand.”

                Beth patted Christian on the arm and started shuffling the deck.  She shared a look with Tim and Aldis; all of them kept half of their attention on Christian as they continued their game.  They were just finishing up a hand when a low moan sounded in the back of Christian’s throat.  He put the phone down and scrubbed his hands over his face before standing up and walking away, leaving his cell phone sitting where he’d placed it.

                “This can’t be good,” Aldis said and picked up the abandoned phone.  He tapped the screen to bring it back to life and squeaked when he saw the screen.  “Aw hell,” he breathed and told Beth and Tim about the photos Christian had shown him from the prior night.  “These are the same guys,” he said turning the phone so his friends could see.

                “Oh my god!” Beth said taking in the way Steve was draped over the young men.  “And he looks stoned?” she said uncertainly.

                “No,” Tim said abruptly.  “This is not what it looks like.  Chris is just over-reacting to stress here and a rotten situation over there.  There is no way Steve would jeopardize what he fought so hard for in the first place.”

                “I’m gonna go check on Christian,” Beth put the cards on the table and stood up.  “See if he wants someone to talk to.”

                “Be careful, girl,” Aldis warned.  Beth nodded and strolled towards the trailers.

                Tim took Christian’s phone from Aldis and pressed speed dial one; he wasn’t surprised when it went straight to voicemail.  “Steve, it’s Tim.  Um … listen … Chris is having kind of a bad day so if you can give him a call as soon as you get this, that would be great.  Hope your trip is gong better and I can’t wait to hear all about it when you come back.”  He hung up and glanced over to see Aldis smirking at him.  “What?”

                “Seriously?  That’s what you’re going with?  Christian’s heart is breakin’, man.”

                “I know there’s a good explanation for what’s in the pictures so the last thing we need to do is come down on Steve like a ton of bricks … Right?”

                Aldis nodded slowly and held up the deck of cards in an invitation to keep playing.

                  

                Beth knocked lightly on the door to Christian’s trailer.  “Christian, can I come in?”  When she didn’t get an answer, she pulled the door open and poked her head inside.

                “You really don’t wanna be here right now, darlin’,” Christian’s raspy voice drifted over to her from the far corner where he was seated at the table.  He’d pulled all of the drapes and shutters leaving the interior of the trailer shrouded in darkness.

                Approaching the corner slowly, Beth made sure she was in Christian’s line of sight so he wouldn’t be startled by any sudden movement.  Her breath caught in her throat as she moved to sit opposite of Christian and got her first look at him.  His eyes were bloodshot and his lashes were spiky from the tears he’d already shed.  From the shaky sound of his breathing, more were on the way.  “Oh, sweetie,” Beth breathed and reached out to cover his hand with one of her own.

                “Don’t,” he growled softly.  “Just … don’t.”

                “Okay,” she whispered and pulled her hand away but she remained seated across from him in silent support.

                It didn’t take long before Christian’s breath started hitching; his head went down and the proud shoulders slumped.  Beth moved around the table and pulled his face into her midriff.  Christian didn’t make a sound but she could feel the hot tears through the thin material of her blouse and the strong arms found their way around her waist.

                The silent storm finally passed and Beth felt the grip around her middle relax.  Christian kept his face averted but there was no mistaking the watery sounding sniffle that preceded the embarrassed chuckle.  And if the hoarse “Thank you, sweetheart,” sounded a bit wobbly, Beth certainly wasn’t going to say anything.

                The quiet moment was broken up by a soft knock on the door.  “Everything okay in there?” Tim’s voice called out.

                Beth put a fingertip under Christian’s chin and raised his head.  “You want me to let him in?”

                “Yeah.  Might as well,” Christian said with a ghost of a smile on his lips.  “Nobody around here seems to realize that a closed door doesn’t mean ‘y’all come in’, do they?”

                Cradling his face between her hands, Beth brushed the tear tracks off of Christian’s face and pressed a kiss to his broad forehead.  “That’s what family does, silly,” she smiled and walked over to let Tim in.

                “I’ll make this quick,” Tim said.  “I just came to return this,” he put Christian’s cell phone on the table, “and to let you guys know they’re letting us go for the day.  They got a guy coming up from Los Angeles with some special parts to fix the soundboard but he won’t be here until tomorrow.  While he gets to work on Saturday, we all get a three day weekend.”  He paused and took a good look at Christian.  “You guys maybe wanna go somewhere for some beers or something?”

                “Not me,” Beth piped up.  “I’m going to spend some extra time with my special little man.  You’re welcome to come along, Christian.  He’s been asking when he’s going to see his favorite uncle again.”

                “Thanks, Beth, but I’ll pass.  I wanna go home … maybe do some stuff in my studio.  It’s been a while and I really should start workin’ on some new music.”

                Beth kissed his forehead again.  “Fine, but you call me if you need to and come on over if you change your mind.  Got it?”

                “Yes, ma’am, I surely do.”  This time Christian’s smile had a little more wattage behind it.  “Thanks again, darlin’.  And don’t let Nadine give you a hard time about the wet shirt.  Tell her it’s all my fault.”

                Beth snapped off a quick salute and dashed out of the trailer.

                “You going to be okay on your own?” Tim asked once they were alone.  He had no problem with the notion of keeping his friend company over the long weekend.

                Christian shrugged.  “Guess we’ll find out,” he said and ushered Tim out in front of him.

                  

                By the time he got home, Christian had almost convinced himself that he was going to make it through whatever was going on with Steve.   

                He fixed vegetable soup and a sandwich for dinner and told himself that a little comfort food was all he had needed to help him feel better after a rough day.   

                Instead of closing himself up in the studio where there were so many memories of he and Steve working together, Christian brought his old guitar and a notebook out to the kitchen nook with him and sat down with a pot of hot coffee to help nudge the creative process along.

                Christian found a lick he liked and jotted it down in a hurry so he could start building a melody off of it.  Words began to come and he was so relaxed and into a zone that when his cell phone rang, it startled him.  He reached for the phone with hope rising in his chest only to have it dashed at the sight of yet another restricted call.

                The words and the music were forgotten as he reached for one of the unopened bottles of Jack sitting on the countertop.

                #######

                Steve’s day hadn’t started badly at all.  The nighttime medication had knocked him out almost immediately once Graham had gotten him back to their hotel and settled after the second show.  He’d slept the entire night through and woke feeling refreshed and ready to go.  He made sure to pack his daytime painkillers and plenty of bottled water in his duffle bag before Graham shepherded him to the car and whisked him off to the convention center.

                As Graham took them on another scenic route past Buckingham Palace, Steve grabbed his phone and placed another call to Christian.  “G’mornin’, baby.  When you get this you should only be a day’s shooting schedule away from a relaxing weekend.  Maybe we’ll have better luck connecting when we’re both not running around like a couple of idiots.  Anyway, I’m on my way to the convention after a bit of a scare with my back last night.  I’ve got Q and A, autograph, and photograph sessions scheduled into early afternoon but will get some down time in between those and another gig tonight.  Take it easy today and I’ll try to connect with you later.  I love you and miss you so much.  Call me and let me know how you’re doing, okay?  Bye.”

                  

                Steve breezed through the Q and A and autograph sessions.  The convention organizers had been apprised of his injuries and comfortable chairs with supporting pillows had been provided for him to use at each event.  Unfortunately, the photograph session required him to be on his feet for over an hour and by the end of that time he was feeling it in his spine and knees.  Arrangements were made for him to have a private room to rest in once the session was done so he could recharge his batteries before his performance in the evening.  He woke from his nap in pain but, surprisingly, this time the culprit wasn’t his back or legs but a low-grade nagging headache that began at the base of his head – the site where he’d been struck the night of the mugging – and slowly gained in intensity as the concert went on.

                ‘I will not throw up … I will not pass out … I will not throw up … I will not pass out’.  Those two simple phrases became Steve’s silent mantra as the gig plodded on; the massive headache was threatening to blow his skull apart from the inside out.

                He barely made it through the set and knew in his heart he had not given one of his better performances; he just hoped he’d get a chance to come back and make it up to the fans, especially the ones who had traveled so far to see him.  He was pale, sweaty, and shaking as the final notes faded and he thanked the audience for coming.  Spotting his two young saviors off to one side and up close he spoke into the microphone, “Rory, Jedd, can I ask you guys to help me out one more time?” he asked and hoped he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt.

                Steve could have sworn he only blinked but when his eyes opened back up, Jedd and Rory were flanking him and hovering like expectant fathers.  Rory was holding his guitar and Jedd was keeping Steve from pitching head first off of the stage.  “You got someplace you can lie down?” Jedd asked quietly.

                Not trusting that he wouldn’t puke the minute he opened his mouth, Steve just nodded and pointed in the direction of stage left.  His escorts let him make it to his feet at his own pace before they wrapped their arms around him and steered him away from the gaping fans and their flashing cameras.

                The trio barely made it to the private room Steve had used before when his legs gave out and he sagged to his knees.  That seemed to be the trigger for everything to hit him all at once.  Steve’s face twisted in pain as he grabbed his head and his insides began to heave.  He expelled the contents of his stomach and slumped to the floor unconscious.

                “Oh shit!” Jedd’s brown eyes were enormous in a pasty pale face.

                Rory was already on the move; he carefully put Steve in the recovery position on the floor and said, “Go find Mr. Levesque.  Tell him what happened and that I’ve already got emergency services on the way.”  Jedd bolted from the room and Rory kept working on Steve.  He grabbed a pillow and blanket from the cot Steve had napped on earlier.  Before covering him up, though, he loosened the collar, cuffs, and waistband of Steve’s shirt and jeans and removed his sneakers.

                By the time Rory got off the phone with emergency services, they were fully aware of Steve’s prior injuries and Jedd was returning with Ian Levesque in tow.

                “I never should have let him do all of this today,” Ian said in a shocked voice as he got his first look at Steve.

                “I’m sure there was nothing you could have done to dissuade him, sir,” Rory responded.  “He’s been adamant all along that he wanted to continue with the bookings you arranged.”

                The paramedics finally arrived and in no time Steve was bundled up and ready for transport.  The information Rory had passed along to the dispatcher enabled them to dive right in without asking a lot of unnecessary questions.  “We’ll be taking him back to Mercy General,” one of them said.  “Doctor Collins is already waiting for him.”

                “Thank you,” Ian answered as Steve was wheeled away to the waiting ambulance.  Levesque turned to Rory and Jedd, “You two can ride with me to the hospital and I’ll have Graham bring you home when we hear how Steve’s doing.  I doubt they’ll be letting him go home tonight.”

                Rory nodded.  “Thank you, sir.  We’d like that.”  Jedd nodded in agreement as the three men filed out of the room.

                  

                “Well, hello again, gentlemen,” Dr. Collins smiled in greeting as he walked into the waiting room several hours later.  “We’ve got Steve settled in the same room as last time.  He’s awake and highly embarrassed.  Let’s go see him and I’ll bring you all up to speed at the same time.”

                Steve was fiddling with the plastic hospital bracelet and scowling down at the IV lines running out of his right hand when Dr. Collins showed his three friends into his hospital room.  He looked up but dropped his eyes back to the blanket covering his legs and didn’t say a word.

                “Let’s get to it, shall we?” Dr. Collins said quickly to smooth over the awkward moment.  “Steve, the good news is that the tests and scans we ran didn’t reveal any new damage to the original injury sites.  The headache and nausea you experienced this evening were probably brought on by you trying to do too much.”  Steve shrugged and still refused to make eye contact with anyone else in the room.  “The bad news is that you are showing signs of an infection in your kidneys from the hard blows you took to your back.  We’ve got you started on a round of intravenous antibiotics and will add another oral prescription to the ones you already have before we’re ready to release you; we want to make sure you won’t have any adverse reactions to them.”  There was still no response from the man in the bed and Collins was starting to worry.  “Steve?” he prompted.

                “I’m guessing I’m not getting out of here tonight?” he mumbled and picked at his blanket.

                Collins sighed.  “I’m afraid not, son.  The earliest you’re going to get out of here is Sunday depending on how well your kidneys respond to the antibiotics.  We’re also going to monitor that hard head of yours a little more closely so we don’t have a repeat of tonight’s little episode.”  Steve went back to shrugging.

                “How soon can he travel?” Ian asked the doctor.

                “Travel as in …”

                “Putting him on a plane back to the United States,” Ian said in a tone that brooked no argument.  At that Steve’s head finally came up and he fixed pained eyes on Levesque.  “Steve, I appreciate that you want very much to continue on but I won’t risk your health in order for you to do that.  You’ve done some good work on this trip; everyone is excited about your catalogue of music and we will certainly have no problem inviting you back again to continue on your tour around Europe.  In fact, I’m hoping we can connect once you’ve recuperated from the unfortunate events that have happened and try to set up something for later this year.”

                “Okay,” Steve said and exhaled noisily.  He brushed at his eyes with his unencumbered left hand and turned his head away.

                Dr. Collins rejoined the conversation, “If we release him on Sunday, I see no reason why he can’t be on a flight home on Monday.  Just make sure there is adequate cushioning for his back as his kidneys will be extra sensitive while he’s on the drugs and that’s a very long flight.  I also don’t want him driving himself for at least a week to make sure there won’t be a repeat of him passing out.  And someone else will need to carry any luggage for him.”

                “That won’t be a problem,” Steve said softly.  “The airline never found my stuff and I won’t be bringing any of what I bought here back with me.”  His smile was faint and wry, “No offense but it’s just not my style.  I’ll keep the duffle bag I bought and put what little I have left in that.  Carry on all the way with the mostly empty duffle and my guitar.”  He closed his eyes and bit his trembling lips.

                “Well, now that’s settled, how about we let Steve get some rest,” Dr. Collins started herding the other men out of the room realizing that his patient was on the verge of losing control.

                “Hold on, doc,” Steve called out.  “Can I talk to Rory and Jedd alone for a few minutes?”

                “I’ll be waiting outside with Graham to take you lads home when you’re done,” Ian said and left with the doctor.

                When they were finally alone Steve looked up at the two young men who had been so good to him during all of the shit that had gone on during the trip.  “Guys … I don’t … I don’t know what to say.  You’ve been wonderful from day one and I can’t thank you enough for your help.”  He grabbed a pad and pen off of the bedside table and scribbled down his phone numbers.  “The top number is for the temporary phone I have now.  The second one is my real number.  I’ll try to have it replaced within a week or so of getting home.  If you need anything you call me; if I can help you, you have my word that I will.  And if you ever travel to the States, give me a call.  If you’re coming my way I would love to offer you dinner and maybe a place to stay for at least one night of your trip.”  His throat closed up on him and he felt moisture welling up in his eyes.

                Rory moved in and pulled Steve in to a hug.  “It was our pleasure to help you, Steve.  You gave us three incredible nights of music that we will never forget and don’t be surprised if we do take you up on your generous offer.  For now, you need to rest and we have to get home.  Both of us have to work on Monday and it’s going to take us the weekend to readjust our sleeping schedules to get back to normal,” he chuckled and waved Jedd over to stand next to him.  “Thank you.  And keep in touch.  Let us know how you’re doing once you get home?” he took the pad of paper and gave Steve their phone numbers.

                Steve nodded and scrubbed his hands over his face.  He received a final hug from both men and then they were gone leaving him alone with his thoughts and feelings of disappointment.  It didn’t take long before the tears started to flow in earnest.

                #####

                Christian woke up hung over and grouchy late Friday morning.  His mood took a turn for the worse when he realized he had nothing even remotely edible left in the house.  He tossed down a couple of aspirin with a disgusting instant coffee chaser and headed to the shower so he could make himself presentable enough to go to the store.

                After he’d dressed, Christian wandered back into the kitchen as he combed out his hair.  He checked the cupboards, pantry, and fridge as he went, jotting down items on his list to make sure he wouldn’t forget anything.  He glanced over to the end of the counter and spotted the nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels that was all that was left from his over-indulgence the night before.  With a shrug he added it to the list.  Steve wasn’t due back home for another two weeks and with the way things had been going so far, he might as well stock back up … just in case.

                  

                The shopping trip didn’t take long and Christian had everything put away in no time.  By mid-afternoon he was ready to get back to the new music he had started working on the night before.  No sooner had he gotten himself settled when his phone rang; it was the band’s manager.  “Hey Eric.  What’s up, man?”

                “Um …” Eric’s uncharacteristic hesitation got Christian’s full attention.  “I’m guessing you haven’t seen any photos of Steve’s show in London from tonight?”  A cold chill swept through Christian at Eric’s grim tone but he couldn’t get his mouth to work.  Eric’s sigh traveled noisily through the receiver.  “Listen … after you see the pictures let me know if we have something we need to be worried about.”

                Christian rubbed his tired eyes and pushed the guitar out of the way.  “I don’t know what I’m gonna be able to tell ya, man.  But I’ll get back to you.”  Hanging up the phone, he wandered over to his makeshift work desk to power up his laptop and printer grabbing an unopened bottle of Jack along the way.

                The pictures that had been posted online from the Friday night London gig rattled him beyond anything he had experienced in the past.  With Steve looking like a drugged out crack addict as he was practically carried off the stage, it was easy to see why Eric was so concerned.  After going straight through to Steve’s voicemail – again – Christian called Eric back and updated him with what he knew which – admittedly – wasn’t much.  They decided to hold off on doing anything until one of them could speak directly to Steve.

                #####

                Christian couldn’t remember the last time he’d shown up for work as messed up as he was on Monday morning.  He had gotten up an hour earlier than he needed to in order to shower off the alcohol tinged sweat he’d been covered in all night long.  A stop at his favorite coffee shop was helping to quell the shaking in his hands.  He reported immediately to hair and makeup as soon as he’d arrived at the studio and the girls were currently pampering him to their hearts content.  What felt like a gallon of Visine managed to get rid of most of the redness in his eyes and cool packs on his face were easing the bags and other evidence left over from his foolish binge as he was treated to a luxurious shampoo and a soothing head massage.

                After being primped to perfection, Christian finally escaped the clutches of the ladies with the full intention of locking himself in his trailer until he was needed.  He knew he wasn’t fit company but his black mood could only enhance the ‘scary Eliot’ scenes that were set to film that day.  Sights set on his destination, he started off across the mostly deserted studio lot.

                “Christian!  Hold up, man!” Aldis’ voice slowed him down but he didn’t stop walking.  “Hey, man,” Aldis grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.  “We need to talk …” the rest died on his lips as the younger man took in the thunderous expression staring back at him.

                Christian stared at the hand on his arm until Aldis removed it on his own then he locked eyes with his friend and said, “No … we don’t need to talk.  Not now.”

                Aldis backed up a step … and then another.  He held his hands up and said, “Okay.  I hear you.  But if you want to talk …”  Christian snarled, turned on his heel and resumed his interrupted journey leaving a shaken Aldis standing there with his jaw hanging open.  Aldis couldn’t wait to talk to Tim and get his take on the situation but for now he just needed to be someplace … else.

                #####

                Steve collapsed gratefully into the comfortable, spacious backseat of the town car Ian Levesque had waiting for him at the airport in Portland.  As Adam, his driver, stashed the duffle bag and guitar with him, Steve leaned back and let exhaustion wash over him.  Even with his pain medication and the pillows he’d been given when he checked out of the hospital for the second time, the twelve and a half hour flight had been brutal – even in first class.  All he wanted to do was crash – hard – for at least a year or so.

                The front door closing brought him back from his thoughts and Adam leaned over the front seat to ask, “Where are we headed?”

                “Um …” Steve checked his watch.  It was a little past three in the afternoon so Christian would still be at the studio.  As much as Steve needed to be horizontal, he also needed to see his lover.  Not having had any contact with Christian since the day of his mugging had him worried and Steve wanted to make sure he was all right.  He gave Adam the address to the Leverage studio and said, “Is it okay if you wait there while I check on someone and then I’ll need one more ride after that.”

                “You’re the boss,” Adam grinned with a flash of bright white teeth.  “Just sit back and enjoy the ride.  I’ll wake you up when we get there if you fall asleep.”

                “Thanks, Adam,” Steve smiled tiredly.  He reached for his cell phone and punched in an international number unsurprised when it went to voicemail as it was now very late in London.  “Hello, Ian.  It’s Steve Carlson.  I wanted to let you know I made it safely to Portland.  And thank you so much for everything you did to get me here; especially putting me in first class.   I really, really appreciate it so much.  I’ll stay in touch and let you know how I’m doing and I hope we can work something out for me to come back.  Thanks again and bye for now.”  He thought about trying to call Christian but he hadn’t even gotten a response to the message he’d left once he boarded the plane to tell Christian he was on his way home.

                Putting the phone back in his pocket, Steve finally let himself relax and the smooth motion of the car lulled him into a light doze.

                  

                A gentle tug on his sleeve pulled Steve back to wakefulness.  “We’re at the studio, Steve.  I got us as close to the trailers as they’d let me but it’s still going to be a bit of a walk.  The guy on the gate said that everyone’s on set but you can wait for Kane in his trailer.”

                “Mmm … ‘kay,” Steve mumbled still half asleep and trying to get his fuzzy brain to catch up with everything Adam had said.  “Um … you okay waiting here for a bit?  I’ll try not to take too long.”

                Adam pulled a book out of his backpack and waved it saying, “I’m good.  Take your time.  Oh!  Don’t forget your meds; it should be about time for your next dose.”

                “How …?” Steve started as he dug the bottles of pills out of his duffle.

                “Mr. Levesque is very thorough,” Adam beamed and pushed his unruly blonde bangs out of his face.

                “Thanks,” Steve snorted and levered himself out of the car.  He had to wait a few moments until his legs decided they would hold him up and then he made his way unsteadily to Christian’s familiar home away from home.

                Once inside, Steve grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and drained half of it taking the painkillers and his new antibiotics.  Truth be told, he felt like shit.  While the pain meds were mostly effective, the antibiotics made him nauseous.  Doctor Collins had tried several different ones before they hit on one that would fight the infection in his kidneys but not have him barfing up his stomach lining as much as the first ones they had attempted; the nausea wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been but it was an ever present sensation in the pit of his belly.

                Since he had no idea of when Christian might return, Steve made himself as comfortable as he could on the bench seat at the table.  There was a folder sitting there; he let curiosity get the better of him and opened it.  There were lots of photos inside of him from each of the London shows.  He smiled at the early ones, especially the ones that had Rory and Jedd in them; those two had fast become good and loyal friends as they’d helped him through the crap that had rained down on him.  When he saw the later photos he had no trouble understanding why Ian had called a halt to the tour.  He really didn’t look good at all.

                A wave of tiredness washed over him and Steve soon fell asleep with the pictures fanned out on the table in front of him.

                  

                As soon as the director called cut and print, Christian disappeared from the soundstage.  He knew he wouldn’t be needed again for at least another hour and it was time to get back to his trailer before he wound up having to talk to someone.  Aldis had apparently put up the ‘Kane Storm Warning’ flags after their early morning confrontation and he’d mostly been left alone any time he had been on set.  The upside had been that he had nailed every scene he’d been in so far.  There had been retakes for other mistakes and malfunctions but no one had any reason to complain about his performance so he had not gotten in trouble for showing up at the studio in the appalling condition he’d been in.  His head was starting to throb again but that could easily be taken care of once he got back to his refuge and hit up the bottle of Excedrin he kept on hand at all times.

                The interior of the trailer was cool and dim when he finally closed the door behind him so he didn’t see that he had a guest at first.  He grabbed a cold bottle of water and shook two headache tablets into his mouth, dry swallowing them before chugging down the frosty cold contents of the water bottle.  It wasn’t until he turned back around that he noticed the figure slumped on the bench seat at his table.  He turned on the small light over the sink, snorted in disgust, and kicked at the foot that was now visible in the path back to the sleeping area.  “What the fuck are you doin’ here?” he spat out as Steve began to drag himself out of a deep sleep.  He scowled as he saw the two pill bottles still sitting on the table and then took in Steve’s hazy eyes.  Not waiting for Steve to say anything, he kept right on going, “So … what?  They get tired of your drunk, stoned, hung over ass over there in Europe and ship you home early? … Just what the fuck were you thinkin’, Carlson?”  He picked up the photos and tossed them back down right in front of Steve.  “Did you … did you conveniently forget that people would be takin’ pictures and posting them online?  Or did you just not think I’d be interested in seein’ them since you couldn’t be bothered to call and leave me messages or anything; especially once you’d hooked up with those two pretty boys you were all over every night.”

                Steve’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water but no words were forthcoming so Christian just plowed right on.  “Oh and by the way?  Eric called me Friday afternoon to let me know about the latest batch of pictures that went up after the show that night.  He is Not Happy with you right now.  Wanted to know if we had ‘an issue’ we needed to deal with.  You know what I had to tell him?!  I had to tell him I had no fuckin’ clue what was going on because I hadn’t heard from your sorry ass since Wednesday mornin’.”

                “Wait … What?” Steve finally got his brain to produce words.  “You didn’t get any of the messages I left for you?”

                “I don’t know who the hell you thought you were drunk dialing but it sure as shit wasn’t me.  All I kept getting’ were calls from a restricted number.  God damned telemarketers.  At least now that you’re back in this country I can change my fuckin’ number and lose ‘em.”

                Steve’s eyes were wide and shocked in a face that was getting paler by the second.  He was certain he’d been calling Christian; he knew he’d heard his lover’s voice on the other end of the line before he’d left those messages.  So why …  A light clicked on in his brain and he realized what had happened.  “You … you didn’t bother to listen to any of the messages from the restricted numbers?” he asked softly.

                “What?  Why the fuck would I do that?  I don’t need to be talkin’ to no telemarketers when I was waitin’ to hear from you!”

                Before Steve could respond to Christian’s latest salvo, he felt the cell phone in his pocket vibrating.  Thinking it might be Adam letting him know they had to go, he pulled the phone out and flipped it open.  “Yeah, Carlson … Oh … Hello … You did?  Really?  When? … Uh, no.  I’m not actually there any more.  I came back to the States today … Where? … Uh, give me a minute?  Thanks.”  Steve looked over at Christian who was glaring daggers through him while he was on the phone.  He knew what he wanted to do more than anything but there was a much bigger issue that needed to be dealt with and he just wasn’t up to it physically or emotionally.  He made a snap decision and hoped that the shock of what he was about to do would smack some sense back into his lover’s stubborn head.  “Um … listen, can you send the stuff here?” he gave the address to his parents’ house in Southern California.  “Yeah, someone will be there to sign for it … Yeah … And thanks again.”  He hung up and slumped back on the bench feeling completely drained; he was slightly bemused when he saw Christian gaping at the cell phone he was holding.

                Christian grabbed the strange phone out of his lax fingers and looked it over.  “What the hell is this?”

                “It’s my temporary phone, Christian,” Steve didn’t even bother to open his eyes again until the silence stretched on for a few seconds.  When he finally did he could have laughed at the perplexed expression on Christian’s face as he tried to work out the puzzle that had been laid out for him but the situation was far from funny.  “Go ahead; check the number on that phone.  I’ll bet you that it matches all but one of those ‘restricted’ calls you got.”  He closed his eyes again and waited.  His back was throbbing again even after taking the pain killers and now he really felt sick to his stomach.  He felt his phone placed back into his hand and made an effort to sit up straight biting back a moan of pain.

                “Why? … What? … I …”

                Steve pushed himself up to his feet and stood there swaying.  “Just tell me you didn’t delete all those messages,” he said evenly.

                “No … I was goin’ to but I never got around to it.”

                “You might want to listen to them then,” Steve said as he pocketed his meds and the cell phone and headed towards the door.

                Christian grabbed him by the arm, much like Aldis had done to him that morning.  “Where do you think you’re goin’, man?  We’re not done here.”

                Steve shook him off and this time he couldn’t suppress the pained groan that escaped his lips.  “Christian, I feel like shit.  I came here to see you and say hi before I found somewhere to lay down and die.  All you’ve done since you walked in the door is bitch at me and you don’t even know the whole story because of your god damned pig-headed temper.”  Christian opened his mouth to respond but shut it quickly as an uncharacteristic lethal glare from his lover cut him down.  “I need to be gone right now before one of us says something we can’t take back.”  He gestured to the photos strewn across the table.  “You use those as ‘evidence’ against me for some ‘crime’ you perceived that I committed while I was away.”  Opening the trailer door, Steve fired another shot, “The bottom line is, Christian, that you don’t trust me.  You don’t trust me even knowing how much I love you.  Have you forgotten so quickly what I was prepared to give up for you?”  Steve’s eyes filled and he pressed his lips together to keep a sob from breaking free.  As soon as he had a little control back he said, “Listen to those messages, Christian.  I think you’ll find them enlightening.”  With that, he exited and stumbled down the steps, nearly falling to his knees when he hit the ground.

                He didn’t even remember walking across the back lot to where Adam was parked but he finally made it and nearly collapsed across the hood of the car.  Adam was out quickly and hovering around trying to figure out what he could do to help.  “Steve?  What’s going on man?”

                “Feel sick,” Steve gasped.  Tears were streaming down his face and all he wanted was to be away from here – away from Christian.

                Adam wrapped an arm around his shoulders and waved off the security guard he could see approaching.  He had a feeling that the last thing his charge needed right now was a crowd watching him break down.  He opened the rear door of the car and got Steve lying down across the wide seat before he reached to the dashboard and got the air conditioning running to cool down the interior.  Next was grabbing a bottle of water from the ice chest he kept in the front passenger seat.  “Here, sip on this.  See if that helps.”

                “Need to get away from here,” Steve sniffled and took several small swallows of the cool water.  It seemed to do the trick and his stomach started to settle down.

                “Okay,” Adam said.  “Where are we going?”

                Steve sagged back down on the seat; his mind was racing.  He couldn’t stay, he knew that now but he was going to need help until he was reliably back on his feet.  He chuckled softly as the obvious answer leapt into his brain.  “I need to go back to the airport but I have one more stop to make first.”

                “What?  Are you sure you’re up to it?” Adam was concerned by Steve’s haggard appearance.

                “Let me make a quick phone call first.  But if Kane comes out of his trailer and starts heading towards the car, get us out of here and find somewhere else to park until I can finish making arrangements.”

                “You got it,” Adam said.  He was confused as hell but Ian Levesque had put this man in his care and he wasn’t about to do anything to upset him any further than he already was.

                Steve fumbled his cell phone out and punched in a number that was as familiar as his own.  When the call was picked up and he heard the much loved voice on the other end of the line, his control dissolved completely,  “Mom …?” he whispered brokenly.

                  

                Christian was tempted to follow Steve immediately but he realized that the other man desperately needed some space and squashed the notion.  Instead he picked up his own cell phone and retrieved all of the restricted messages he had blown off for nearly a week.  He keyed in his password and picked up the earliest message …

                “Chris?  It’s me.  I … I got mugged outside of the venue tonight.  I’m – uh – in a local hospital overnight for observation but they should let me out tomorrow if the tests they did come out okay.  They got my wallet and cell phone, Chris.  I’m gonna try to get a temporary phone till I can get back to the States so I might not be calling much till I get home.  Guess I’ll call Darren next.  I need help getting my phone and credit cards shut off pretty quick.  Don’t call me yet till I get the temporary phone; this one belongs to my driver.  God, I miss you so much!”

                Christian felt his heart shatter at the sound of pain and longing in Steve’s voice.  His lover had been going through a hellish nightmare on his own since he’d left this voicemail and all Christian managed to do once they were back in the same room was snarl and snap at him like some rabid junkyard dog.  He wanted to listen to the rest of the messages but he was scared to death to hear what was in them.  What had happened after the mugging to make Steve look as awful as he had in those photos?  Not to mention that he looked even worse now.  And where the hell was he going now that he’d walked out looking about as defeated as Christian had ever seen him?  He prayed that the man had sense enough to head to his – their – house so that they could talk when he was done working.

                He flung open the trailer door just in time to see an unfamiliar black town car starting to pull out of the lot.  “No!” he yelled.  “Steve! … Wait! …”  He started running towards the car but it only moved faster until it was too far away for him to catch up to it.

                “Wait … I’m … I’m sorry,” he said softly but no one was there to hear it.

                He stood rooted to the spot for a good five minutes before turning around and nearly running into one of the assistants on the current shoot.  “Christian?” the young woman said hesitantly.  “They’re ready for you again on set.”

                “Thanks, darlin’,” he whispered.  “Can you tell them I’ll be there in five – maybe ten – minutes?  I need to go clean up a little.”

                “Sure thing,” she responded brightly and trotted off to deliver his message.

                “What the hell have I done?” he asked the empty space in front of him as he walked back to his trailer.

                  

                “Steve? … Steve!” Christian was calling his lover’s name before he even shut the front door of the house later that night.  There were no lights on inside but as tired and ill as Steve had looked it wouldn’t have surprised him if the other man had headed straight to bed and collapsed.  His heart fell as he walked into the bedroom and still could find no signs of his lover.  Then he started noticing other things.  The bed looked rumpled as if something had been placed on it and then removed.  “Oh god!”  Christian whimpered and flung open the closet, staring at the empty hangers where a few of Steve’s things had migrated for when he visited and didn’t feel like packing a lot of extra clothes.  The dresser drawers Steve used were also empty and the supplies he tended to leave in the bathroom were gone as well.

                Christian slumped on the foot of the bed and heard a metallic jangle.  He didn’t think his heart could hurt any worse but found that he was completely wrong when he turned to see Steve’s house keys sitting on the mattress where they’d slid off of his pillow.  Still sitting on the pillow was ‘The Photograph’.  The one that had jogged his memory back all those months ago when he’d been recovering from the accident on set that had given him temporary amnesia.  Steve’s words from earlier came back and hit him like a sledgehammer …

                “The bottom line is, Christian, that you don’t trust me.  You don’t trust me even knowing how much I love you.  Have you forgotten so quickly what I was prepared to give up for you?”

                And the thing was, he had forgotten.  As much as he had known it would kill him inside, Steve had been willing to let Christian go if he hadn’t remembered their fledgling relationship on his own and Christian had thrown that back in Steve’s face by suspecting him of cheating the first time they had been apart for any significant length of time.

                The pain in his chest was so acute that Christian actually started to wonder if he was having a stress-induced heart attack.  As much as he felt he needed a drink, he also knew he was going to need a clear head to get through the rest of the night – and the rest of the week.  They had a heavy shooting schedule to make up for all of the lost time the prior week and, even if he found out where Steve had gone to ground, there was no way he could try to follow him until they were done filming some time on Friday.  He stumbled back to the kitchen and turned on the light before he grabbed a bottle of water, a pad of paper and a pen.  He also picked up his cell phone.  He was going to listen to the rest of Steve’s voicemails and wanted to make sure he didn’t miss anything while he put together a timeline of what had been going on in London while he’d had his head up his own ass here in Portland.

                #####

                It took longer than Christian wanted for him to figure out where Steve had gone after he’d left Portland Monday afternoon.  None of their friends knew where he was and the fact that Darren and Rosalee had no idea either unnerved him more than he wanted to admit.  When he struck out with everyone he could think of, he made a call to Ian Levesque to find out what he could about Steve’s injuries to see if that would give him a clue.  If he’d thought he was worried before, finding out the extent of what had been done to his lover sent his protective streak into overdrive and he realized that Steve would have needed to go somewhere that he could count on someone for help with almost everything until he was healed up enough to take care of himself.  He wasn’t even allowed to drive yet according to what Levesque told him.  That bit of information led him to the only logical place for Steve to go to ground.

                He tried calling Steve’s new cell phone and even left another message at the old number just in case but so far the only thing he’d gotten back was a brief text message from Steve’s new number letting him know he arrived at his destination safely and would talk to him later when he was feeling up to it.  Christian decided to hell with that and as soon as filming wrapped Friday evening he’d been on a plane to Los Angeles so fast that he hadn’t bothered to pack anything to take with him on the brief overnight trip.

                And now here he was … Sitting in a rental car outside a house that he wasn’t even sure he’d be welcome in any longer.  “C’mon, Kane,” he groused to himself.  “You’ve never been a coward before and now’s not the time to start.”  He stepped out of the car and made sure it was locked before he proceeded up the walk and on to the front porch.  To his disgust, his hand was shaking as he reached out to ring the bell and for a wild moment he was glad he’d come from the studio because his hair was down and tidy instead of being bunched up into a messy ponytail and hidden under a wool cap.  It made him feel better knowing he looked presentable even if he still had a gut feeling that he might be heading to a gallows of his own making.

                The door finally opened and he was staring into the cool eyes of a woman he’d come to think of as a second mama.  “Christian,” she said and her tone was just as glacial as her eyes.

                “Sandy … uh … Ma’am,” he mumbled and dropped his gaze.

                She sighed and crossed her arms.  “I suppose you want to see him.”

                “Only if it’s okay with you, ma’am,” he still couldn’t look her in the eye.

                “At least have the decency to look at me when you’re talking to me,” Sandy commanded sharply.

                Christian obeyed immediately and let all of his defenses down, allowing her to see his pain and the humiliation at what he had done to her son.

                “Oh, my poor boy,” she said and reached out to pull him into a hug.  “Stevie’s out on the back porch.  I’ll take you through.  But if he’s sleeping please don’t wake him.  He’s been very ill all week long.”

                “Yes, ma’am,” Christian responded and felt something cold inside him melt when she wrapped her arm around his shoulders to steer him through the house to the airy, enclosed porch that was the length of the entire back of the building.

                Christian’s eyes were immediately drawn to the man who was lying face down on the futon sofa; his face was turned towards the back of the couch.  Steve was wearing a pair white cotton gauze shorts and the visible bruising on his lightly tanned lower back and legs was stark in comparison to the light color of the skimpy garment.  Christian gasped in alarm and felt his knees beginning to give way; if it hadn’t been for Sandy’s strong grip on his arm he’d have landed hard on his ass.

                “Oops,” she said and turned him around to head to the kitchen.  Sitting him down at the kitchen table she handed him a glass of iced tea.  “Are you okay?”

                “After seein’ him, I’m not sure.  Even talkin’ to Ian Levesque and getting’ the details I didn’t have a clue how bad he was going to look,” Christian sipped at his tea.

                “It’s not just the bruising,” Sandy said quietly.  “He picked up an infection in his kidneys from the blows to his back and the antibiotics are making him sick.  There’s blood every time he goes to the bathroom.  And he still has headaches from the knock on his head although those are very infrequent now.”  Christian nodded remembering his own experiences with headaches after his accident on the set.  Sandy continued, “We took him to his own doctor and they’ve tried other antibiotics but the ones that don’t make him sick don’t fight the infection as well.  So, for now, we’re in a holding pattern.  He takes the meds, he gets sick, and he falls asleep.”

                Christian sighed and twisted his fingers together.  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am that things went down between the two of us the way they did.  I was stupid and stubborn and had my head so far up my ass when he showed up at the studio.  You have to believe I would have never let him walk away if I had any idea how bad off he was.”

                “I was so angry with you when he showed up on our doorstep Monday night,” she admitted back to him.  “It took everything he had to get here.  I nearly slapped him right back in the hospital when he came close to collapsing on the front porch until I realized that a lot of what was upsetting him was emotional as well as physical.”

                Finishing up his tea, Christian placed the glass carefully on the table and stood up slowly.  “You’ll tell him I came by to see him?”

                “Of course I will.  But you’re not staying?”

                “I have some interviews and stuff I need to do for the series back in Portland tomorrow so I need to fly back in the morning.  I just … I needed to see him.  To make sure he was … okay,” his voice wavered on the last word and he nearly lost it then.

                Sandy stood and embraced him one more time.  “I will tell him you came to see him but it will be up to him whether or not he wants to contact you right away.  He’ll be here at least another week before he’s cleared to drive so you can call the house phone if you want to know how he’s doing.”

                “Thanks, Sandy.  I appreciate that.  And I understand and respect his need for space.”  Christian moved away and took one more look at Steve’s still form lying on the futon.  “I will make this right.  I don’t know how but I will make this right.”

                Christian leaned in to kiss Steve’s amazing mom on her sweet-smelling cheek and took his leave.  As he drove away his brain was already spinning, trying to come up with something he could do that would bring Steve back to him.

**#####**

**The End**


End file.
